


The Destiny Of Cosette

by QueerCosette



Series: On Se Sent Comme Par Magie [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fae & Fairies, Female Claquesous, Identity Swap, M/M, Magic, Mutual Pining, Non-Binary Jean Prouvaire, Pining, Slow Burn, Witches, Wizards, hopefully badass fight scenes, i guess, it's gonna be a long fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-04-04 09:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 88,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14017149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerCosette/pseuds/QueerCosette
Summary: Cosette is an ordinary Parisian teenager - until one day, she stumbles across a powerful Faery being attacked by an ogre! And when she inadvertently uses magic to protect the Faery, Enjolras, she realises that she’s maybe not as normal as she thought. Enjolras invites her to attend Faery school in another dimension with him, where they become friends with three other faeries - Courfeyrac, Jehan and Éponine - and form Les Amis. But all is not well in the Magic Dimension -What’s the deal with Grantaire, Marius, Bahorel and Combeferre - four cute wizards from another school?What are Patron-Minette - a trio of witches - planning?And who is Fantine, the mysterious Nymph who keeps appearing in Cosette’s dreams?





	1. Prologue

**Fifteen years ago**

 

The walls were crumbling. The floor was shaking. She could hear them getting closer, and she knew she didn’t have much time.

Fantine raised her right hand and circled it carefully, creating a small golden portal. She winced as she felt another piece of the ceiling crash to the floor behind her. They were almost there.

She turned to the bundle of blue fabric in her arms. An elfin face surrounded by golden blonde hair peeked out at her. Her darling Euphrasie was still asleep, thank the Dragon. Fantine planted a kiss on her daughter’s head, and with a heavy heart placed her into the portal. She saw the child’s eyes open, and confusion cross her face as she wondered why her mother was no longer holding her, before the portal closed and spirited the infant away to another dimension.

One where she would be safe, where darkness would not be able to find her.

Fantine smiled at the knowledge that her daughter would not die, and turned to face her fate.


	2. In which, if it helps, no one else saw that coming either

 A golden sun rose over Paris, illuminating both the Eiffel Tower and the interiors of apartments and narrow two-story houses. In one such house, at number 40 rue des Archives, the sunlight spilled into the bedroom of a sixteen-year-old girl, trying unsuccessfully to rouse her from the clutches of sleep. Her father entered the room, and he took a bolder approach to waking her.

 “Cosette, chérie, réveille-toi! You’re going to be late for school.”

That did it. Cosette leapt out of bed with a yelp, hurried into the bathroom, and emerged five minutes later in a fluffy blue bathrobe, drying her damp blonde hair with a towel. She snatched up a stripy top and a pair of denim capri-pants, and yanked them on under her robe, while berating her father for not waking her up earlier.

“How could I have forgotten about school? Oh, I’m going to be so late, why didn’t you come in earlier, Papa? Merde!”

She had just shoved her feet into a pair of pink flats when she realised. “Hang on,” Cosette murmured. “I’m not late for school. It’s still the holidays! School doesn’t start again for another week. Not funny, Papa!”

Her father, Jean Valjean, grinned at her unashamed. “I thought it was pretty funny.” He stroked the ears of the little chocolate brown Dutch rabbit who had been asleep in a basket lined with fluffy blankets, but had woken up at the sound of his mistress’ panicked shouts.

Cosette scowled. “I’m going back to bed.” She toed off her flats and sulkily dived back under the covers. The rabbit hopped out of his basket and onto the bed, snuggling up to her, and she petted him sleepily.

Valjean kissed the top of his daughter’s head. “Chérie, why were you up so late anyway?”

“I was reading.”

He reached for the book that had been left open next to the bed. “‘Fées: mythe ou réalité?’” Valjean sighed fondly. “Don’t you ever get tired of silly fairy stories?”

“They’re not silly!” Cosette defended the book, but she stretched and got out of bed properly, scooping up the rabbit and following her dad downstairs into the living room.

“Anyway, since you’re still on holiday, you can help me around the house today.”

“Papa!” Cosette complained. “I don’t want to spend the last week of the holidays doing _housework_. I want to go out with my friends! I’m not a child any more.”

“You’re still my little girl,” teased Valjean. When Cosette’s pout didn’t lift, he smiled fondly at her. “All right. But in order to do that, you’re going to need wheels.”

Cosette’s eyes widened. “Papa…you didn’t!” She beamed as she dashed out the front door and down the stairs at the front of the house, skidding to a halt in front of…a bicycle. Not a car, or a scooter, but a simple sky-blue bicycle, with a basket on the front and a baby-pink bell.

Valjean watched his daughter’s reaction eagerly. Cosette held her smile carefully in place. “Thanks so much, Papa! It’s…it’s really great.” She hugged him quickly, and lifted her rabbit into the basket, where he sat up proudly. “I think I’ll take Wolter to the park. Thanks again, Papa!” She blew him a kiss, hopped onto the bike, and peddled off.

The bike wasn’t actually that bad. It was the ruthless teasing that would come with it. Cosette glanced up as a shadow fell across the path in front of her. Rosetta.

“Salut, Cosette,” smirked the raven-haired queen-bee. Rosetta had been picking on Cosette since they were little kids, and showed no signs of stopping any time soon. “Nice _ride_.” She said ‘ride’ the way most people said ‘heap of shit’.

Cosette mouthed a word not suitable for polite conversation, but Rosetta didn’t see, as she had turned to the delivery men carefully unboxing a bright pink scooter. “Be careful with that! It’s new!” Rosetta glanced back at Cosette. “Later, loser!”

The blonde glared at Rosetta’s retreating back, but ultimately decided to ignore her and continued on to the park. When they got there, Wolter hopped out of his basket and padded off to explore the woods, while Cosette propped her bike against a tree, and sat cross-legged on the ground. It was a nice spot. Maybe she’d come back later with a sketchpad and some watercolour paints.

Suddenly, Wolter came bounding out of the bushes, squeaking furiously. He jumped around her, and tugged at her jeans with his teeth, leading her back the way he’d come from. “What is it, Wolter?” Cosette asked him softly, following him through the bushes. “Did you find something interesting?”

Interesting, it turned out, was a bit of an understatement. A person was standing in the middle of a glade with their back to Cosette, their posture suggesting that they were fighting something, or someone. The figure turned to one side, glaring at something Cosette couldn’t see, and she realised that it was a teenage boy.

He was about her age, maybe a little older, with waist-length golden-blond hair tied in a ponytail with a red band. He was dressed like nobody she’d ever seen before - his clothes were mainly bright red, made of a material that glittered in the morning sun; a top that was draped like a toga, but showed off his lithe midriff, and the shortest shorts she’d ever seen on a boy. His boots were knee-high and had black heels, across his forehead was a black headband, and he had black cuffs on both wrists. He was clutching a long staff made of black metal, the top of which was an orb surrounded by smaller red orbs that hung in mid-air. From his back sprouted six small golden fronds, three from each shoulder blade, that almost looked like…wings.

And his face…Cosette had never seen a face both so charming and terrifying at the same time. His features were beautiful: his nose was straight, his eyes were almond-shaped, his brows were sculpted and his lips were plump and red. But his expression was one of utter fury, with rage glowing in his golden-brown irises, and it was directed at something lurking in the shadows, just outside of Cosette’s line of sight.

Suddenly, the lurking thing leapt at the boy, and Cosette clamped a hand over her own mouth to hold back her scream because _that wasn’t normal_. It had dark maroon scales, with a small body and gangly limbs, and a flat, cruel face with glowing yellow eyes. Its hands were large with sharp claws, and it had a definite hunch. The claws slashed at the boy, who to her surprise, didn’t even flinch, but instead shouted, “Rising Sun!” A bright light flashed, and the thing retreated. Cosette’s jaw dropped - the flash of light had come from the boy’s _hand._

There was a growling from the bushes, and more of the creatures appeared, running at the boy and scratching at his legs. The boy lifted his staff and yelled, “Solar Wind!” as he brought it down hard on the ground. A glowing wind blew the creatures back into the shadows, but one of them hovered in mid-air, as though it was flying, a dark shadow wrapped around its body.

Suddenly the shadow contracted, and the creature burst into…nothing. It was gone. But the shadow wasn’t, and as it moved forward, it materialised into a hand, attached to an arm, attached to a…

…an _ogre_.

Cosette knew that she herself would have been shrieking her head off and running for the hills by this point, but the boy held his ground. He glared at the ogre. “I am Enjolras, Faery of the Shining Sun and Prince of Solaria, so fuck _off!”_

There were three main reasons that Cosette was speechless after this pronouncement:  
1.Faeries exist! She’d been right all along!  
2.Enjolras looked nothing like what she’d imagined a Faery to be like - he was a lot taller than she’d thought faeries would be.  
3.When she’d previously imagined meeting a Faery, she hadn’t expected their first words to include the phrase ‘fuck off’.

The ogre seemed less than pleased about being sworn at, and he charged furiously at the faery, who clearly wasn’t expecting it. They collided, Enjolras’ jaw going slack, and the blond boy flew through the air, landing heavily with a thump.

The maroon-scaled creatures surrounded him, pinning him to the ground. “Ghouls!” the ogre growled. “Take his sceptre!”

One of the creatures snatched the staff from Enjolras’ hand, and the Faery paled. The ogre loomed over him, a wicked smirk on his face. “Not so sunny now, are you?” he growled maliciously.

“Hey!” Cosette found herself shouting. The ogre spun to face her. Cosette was terrified, but bravely held her ground. “Let him go!” She couldn’t just sit there and watch the Faery being beaten.

The ogre looked merely irritated. “Ghouls! Attack!”

The ghouls rushed at Cosette, their claws swiping at her. She threw up her hands to shield her face, and suddenly the ghouls were retreating as if burned. Wolter was gazing at her slack-jawed, but suddenly began bouncing excitedly and chittering in celebration. He didn’t notice a ghoul creeping up on him until it was nearly upon him, but gave a squeak of terror when he saw it mere inches away from him.

Now Cosette was furious. “Hands off Wolter!” she yelled, snatched up a stick, and swung it hard at the ghoul, which careened off into the woods. If Cosette had been a faster runner, she could’ve been a baseball pro.

Suddenly, her hands were being crushed in the ogre’s strong grip. “Bad move, girlie!” he growled. “Larbin smash!” He shook her like a rag-doll.

Cosette wasn’t even scared any more - just really, really angry. She could literally feel her anger bubbling up inside her chest, as though it was going to burst out at any moment. She shouted angrily - she wasn’t really sure what - and suddenly something large and golden-red burst out of her chest, and the ogre was skidding across the ground. His yellowish skin looked red and raw, as though it had been burned.

He gingerly got to his feet, and realised that he’d let go of the sceptre. The ghouls rushed to his side. He’d torn a hole in her jeans when he’d grabbed her, Cosette noticed to her annoyance.

Enjolras got up, rubbing his head. He grabbed his sceptre back off the ground, and smiled at Cosette. “Hey. Thanks!”

“No-n-n-no problem,” Cosette stuttered back. Enjolras turned and glared at the ogre, who had clearly decided that the fight wasn’t worth continuing. He scowled. “You win this time, Faery, but I’ll be back!” He clapped his hands three times and disappeared in a cloud of smoke, along with his ghouls.

Enjolras continued to glare at the spot where the ogre had been, but suddenly clutched at his sceptre and toppled over with a moan. There was a flash, and he was suddenly wearing a well-cut dark red silk suit and black leather shoes. His sceptre was gone, as were his wings, and his hair was loose and tumbled about his shoulders. He was unconscious.

 

 

“OK, Cosette, tell me again why there is an unconscious teenage boy on our sofa.”

“We were in the woods in the park. Big scary monsters attacked us, and he fought them! And…so did I!” Cosette felt a little dizzy every time she remembered how the burning energy had burst out of her, sending the ghouls and the ogre flying.

Valjean didn’t look convinced, but Enjolras was stretching and his eyelids were fluttering, and he was starting to sit up. Cosette dashed to his side. “How are you feeling?”

The boy yawned. “Much better, thanks. Um, where am I?”

Cosette put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re at my house. This is my dad, Jean Valjean, and I’m Cosette. If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly happened to you?”

Valjean nodded. “I’d like to know that too.”

Enjolras took a deep breath. “Well, I was on my way back to the Musain College for Faeries in Magix - that’s the school I go to - when I was forced down onto Earth by that disgusting ogre and his ghouls! They were trying to take the Sceptre of Solaria, and I’m the Prince of Solaria and thus its guardian. Have you heard of Solaria? It’s in the Magic Dimension in another galaxy.” He said all of this in a single breath.

Valjean looked worried. “He’s delirious. I’m calling the hospital.” He picked up the phone.

Enjolras looked cross, but suddenly he grinned and focussed a beam of light that came from his finger at the phone. There was a puff of smoke, and instead of a phone Valjean was holding a lettuce. The blond Faery smirked. “Believe me now?”

Cosette beamed at him. “I believe you, Enjolras!”

“Thank you. So, as I was saying, the ogre attacked me, and he managed to get my sceptre! But then, Cosette jumped out and fought him off, and got my sceptre back.”

Valjean looked at Cosette curiously. She shrugged. “Actually, I don’t know how I did it. It was weird!”

“Faeries don’t need to know how they’re doing it,” Enjolras shrugged. “They just do it.”

Cosette felt like she was floating. “Me? A-a Faery?”

Enjolras nodded. “If you throw up energy shields like a Faery, and beat down monsters like a Faery, I say you must be a Faery!”

Valjean rubbed his forehead with his knuckles. “This is - this is nuts! Faeries - nuts!”

 

 

Meanwhile, in a cavern somewhere in another dimension…

Larbin the ogre cowered in front of three sets of glowing eyes. They glared back.

“Larbin, you useless ogre!” snarled the owner of one set of eyes. “You didn’t even manage to overpower a silly Faery!”

“I-it wasn’t m-m-my fault, your scarinesses!” Larbin stuttered. “I would have got the sceptre, but there was this girl there - a s-super-powerful Faery!”

“Really?” another voice said, silkier and more threatening than the first. “Super-powerful? Tell me more.”

Larbin quaked like a leaf, but continued. “I managed to tear off some material from her clothes. We can use a h-h-hunting troll to find her.”

The eyes glittered with evil intent, and Larbin let out a relieved breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

 

 

Enjolras followed Cosette into her bedroom. “Is this your room? It’s cool!” He studied some sketches of Paris she’d pinned to her wall. “Did you draw these?” Cosette nodded shyly. “They’re really good!” He laughed. “Sorry, I’m a bit nosy.”

Cosette shook her head. “It’s OK,” she said, but suddenly changed her mind. “Actually, no, it’s not OK. I still have no idea what happened in the park!”

Enjolras looked almost bored. “You used your powers to save my life. Standard Faery duty.”

“But I didn’t even know I had powers until now!”

The blond Faery shrugged. “You’ve always had them, it just took ‘til now for them to come out. Watch…” Enjolras focussed on the mug of pencils on Cosette’s desk. The pencils rose into the air, surrounded by glowing golden light. With a flash, they morphed together into a single pencil about the size of a pencil case. Enjolras smiled encouragingly at her. “Your turn, Cosette. Return them to their original shape.”

Cosette concentrated hard on the pencil. “Come on…come on!” She flourished her hands at it, gritted her teeth and scrunched her nose - but the pencil simply dropped to the floor and rolled under her bed. She sighed. “I can’t do it.”

“You just need practice, that’s all,” Enjolras insisted. He gave a practised flick of the wrist, and the pencil flew into the air and split back into several normal sized pencils, landing neatly back in the mug. “At Musain, we learn to control our powers in order to reach more powerful levels of magic. You should definitely come with me tomorrow.”

Cosette bit her lip indecisively. Enjolras pulled out what looked like a postcard. “I know! Do you want to see the school?”

“You can do that? Show me the school?”

Enjolras nodded and dropped the postcard onto the floor, where it grew to the size of a small rug. “It’s a bottomless postcard. Follow me!” He hopped onto it with a cry of “To Magix!”

Cosette gasped as he disappeared into the postcard. She rushed towards it and looked down into it, and saw a tiny Enjolras beckoning to her to join him. Carefully, she stepped onto the postcard and repeated “To Magix!”

It was a peculiar sensation, sinking into the postcard. Her skin felt fizzy where the portal touched it, and she couldn’t feel any ground beneath her feet. As her head went under, she held her breath, but to her surprise, there was no change in the air, except perhaps it smelled a little fresher. Her feet landed on the ground easily, and she looked around in awe. They were standing on the grass at the edge of a green forest, under a bright blue sky. Then she noticed the castle.

It was straight out of a fairy tale. The walls were pale pink, and the roofs were baby blue. It was structured as a massive circle around a central courtyard, with lilac gates shaped like enormous wings. There was a wishing well in the centre of the courtyard, and there were delicate balconies all around the upper floors. The castle had two towers, one with a turret roof and the other more of a raised platform with delicate battlements. It was gorgeous.

Cosette still looked a little unsure. “What about my high school in Paris?” she asked Enjolras. “I mean, my high school years haven’t been the happiest years of my life, but I can’t just ditch.”

Enjolras shrugged. “Yes you can. Just say you got a late reply from a college you applied to. And I can assure you, I’ve never met anyone who was unhappy with their Musain experience. You learn loads, and make tons of friends!”

“True, I don’t really have many friends here,” Cosette admitted. “I lost most of them when I broke up with my last boyfriend. Although it would be weird starting over at a new school with no one I know in my class.”

Enjolras looked almost embarrassed. “Actually, I’d be in your class,” he admitted. “I’m repeating my first year.”

“Did you fail?” Cosette hadn’t known him for very long, but Enjolras didn’t seem like the kind of person to neglect academics, especially with the enthusiasm he had when talking about his school.

“No…I was kind of expelled…my parents smoothed everything over, but I have to repeat my first year as punishment for how badly I screwed up last year,” Enjolras sighed. “I swear, college has no time for justice!”

 

 

A few streets away, outside an abandoned warehouse, several figures appeared in a cloud of smoke. Two were huge and hulking, the others smaller and crouched low to the ground. They were, of course, Larbin the ogre, his hunting troll, and more ghouls. And like most people hanging around abandoned warehouses, they were up to no good.

Larbin handed the troll the scrap of denim he had torn from Cosette’s jeans. “Here, troll. Sniff out the Faery!” he instructed the creature.

The troll snatched the scrap in one blue-skinned hand and inhaled deeply. Cosette’s soft, grapefruity scent clung to the creature’s thick black nose-hairs. The troll lowered the scrap, and sniffed the night air, searching for the same scent. Finally he found it. “That way!” The troll pointed to the west of the warehouse. It had a low, gravelly voice, and its words were stilted as it spoke in a language far more complex than its native tongue (but then again, any language is more complex than Troll. You just have to point and grunt, after all).

The troll led the ogre and the ghouls towards the source of the scent. They had just turned onto rue des Archives when suddenly the troll stopped. “Wait… scent gone.”

 

 

This was, obviously, the moment that Enjolras and Cosette had entered the bottomless postcard.

“I guess… I’ll think about it,” Cosette decided.

Enjolras smiled triumphantly. “Good enough for me! Come on, let’s go back!”

“How do we get out of here?”

“It’s really easy!” Enjolras said. “You just jump!” He sprang upwards, and vanished!

Cosette jumped too, and suddenly there was that fizzy feeling again - and then they were standing back in her bedroom.

 

 

“Scent back!” the troll grunted. It narrowed its eyes at the row of houses, but suddenly pointed at number 40. “That one!”

 

 

In the living room of number 40, Valjean was pacing up and down, attempting to get his thoughts in order.

_Faeries don’t exist!_

**But Enjolras turned the phone into a lettuce!**

_That was probably just a trick of my eyes. I should really go to the optometrist._

**Magic exists and you know it! You’ve seen it! Enjolras is magic, and maybe Cosette is too…**

The front door rattled. Wolter’s ears pricked up, and he sniffed the air. His eyes widened. That smell was wrong. He squeaked and bounded over to Valjean, pawing at his slipper. _Something is wrong! Something is very wrong!_

Valjean tutted. “We’ll play later, Wolter. I’m busy right now!”

_You’re just pacing! And this isn’t a game! Something is wrong here!_ Wolter gave up, and dug his teeth into a chair, dragging it over to the door and propping it under the doorknob in the hope that it would keep the Bad Thing out.

“What is that rabbit doing?” Valjean muttered. ”Wolter, I told you, I can’t play right n--!”

He never finished that sentence, as something collided heavily with the front door and the entire house shook. “What was that?”

In Cosette’s bedroom, she and Enjolras yelped at the shockwave.

From downstairs, the gravelly voice echoed up to them. “FAERY!”

“Fuck!” Cosette gasped. “My dad” She and Enjolras dashed down the stairs, but stopped at the bottom in shock.

Larbin had Valjean in a choke-hold pinned against the wall. The troll was staring wildly around the room, searching for something. When it spotted them, it gave another cry of “FAERY!”

Enjolras appeared unruffled. “Looking for moi?” He removed a ring from his middle finger. It was shaped like a muffin, but with black dough and red chocolate chips. “Well, you found me!”

Cosette knew what he was thinking. “We need to split them up.”

“You take the ghouls,” Enjolras whispered. Then to the troll and the ogre: “Bring it on, you blimps!”

“Come get me, you stupid ghouls!” Cosette yelled, running for the door. The troll had bashed the frame out of shape on its way in. The unpleasant creatures followed her.

Enjolras threw the ring into the air with a cry of “Solaria!” and it turned into his sceptre! So that was where it had gone earlier. There was a flash of golden light and he had transformed into his Faery form.

The ogre let Valjean drop to the floor. “Hey…did you call me a blimp?” he snarled.

A smirk appeared on the blond boy’s face. “Well, if the shoe fits…”

 

 

It was only when Cosette got outside, that she realised she was surrounded by several murderous creatures with sharp claws, and she had absolutely no means of defence. “Fuck…”

Suddenly, a silver gleam caught her eye. What looked like an upside-down cooking pot was moving along the ground. When it reached her feet, she picked it up - nothing under it. Turning it over, she realised that Wolter was clinging to it in an attempt to hide from the ghouls. She lifted him onto a wall out of their reach.

There was a loud crash from inside, and suddenly Enjolras was thrown through the window, shattering the glass. Cosette yelped in shock. “Are you OK?”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” Enjolras got up and brushed himself off. “I have everything under control. I called backup!”

The troll exited the house, smashing the door frame again. “Got you now - gurgh!” The choking noise was caused by the glowing magenta collar that had wrapped around its neck. Cosette turned to the source of the collar, and was more surprised by her lack of surprise at its source than by the fact that the source was the glowing hands of a boy with hair the same colour as the collar.

They must be Enjolras’ backup! Four boys about her own age were standing on the pavement. They all wore the same uniform - a navy-and-cream jumpsuit with knee high navy boots and a sky blue cape secured by a jewelled pin. The pin was a different colour for each boy: the boy with magenta hair had a magenta pin, the tall freckly redheaded one had a blue pin, the one with curly black hair had a green pin, and the bespectacled dirty-blond boy had a yellow pin.

“Ok, you’ve got him, now keep him steady, Baz,” the redhead instructed.

“Relax, I’m fine,” the magenta-haired boy, ‘Baz’, insisted.

“I’m totally relaxed,” said the boy with black curls with an easy smirk. He was leaning on a bright green broadsword he seemed to have conjured from - well, not thin air, it gleamed almost as if it was made from water. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

Rightly so - it was just as he said this, that the troll jerked its head and sent Baz flying.

“Ferre!” the redhead shouted. “You’re up!”

The bespectacled boy yelped and fumbled with the gun he was holding, but managed to pull the trigger three times. Three glowing yellow darts shot towards the troll, distracting it and burning its skin when it tried to bat them away.

Baz got up from where he’d landed between Cosette and Enjolras. “Excuse me, but I’ve got work to do,” he said, pushing them out of his way. Cosette was a little affronted at his brusque manner, but in all fairness he had just been thrown about 20 feet.

The four boys continued to box the troll into a corner, but were kept from any direct strikes by its swinging fists. Enjolras grabbed Cosette’s wrist. “Come on, focus!” he said urgently, and this time Cosette knew exactly what to do. She focussed sharply on the space between her and Enjolras’ hands. As the curly-haired boy brought the broadsword down on the pavement, slicing it open and creating a deep ditch, a ball of energy formed between them, and Enjolras mouthed, “3…2…1…now!”

Cosette pulled her hands away from the energy bubble, and it shot towards the troll, knocking him into the ditch!

“And that’s how you take down an ogre,” Enjolras grinned.

“I really am a Faery,” Cosette whispered in wonderment.

“Told you!”

Larbin had exited the house by this point. He knew when to cut his losses. “Ghouls! To me!” His ghastly servants surrounded him, and like he had earlier, he clapped three times and vanished in a puff of smoke.

Enjolras brushed a stray hair out of his face. “Cosette, I’d like you to meet the Wizards. This is Bahorel -”

‘Baz’ gave a grunt of acknowledgement.

“- Prince Marius -”

The boy with curly black hair grinned at her in greeting. “What’s up?”

“- Combeferre -”

The bespectacled boy grinned shyly at her. “Hey!”

“- and Grantaire, Prince Marius’ squire.”

The redhead blushed and awkwardly saluted her. “Heyyo,” he stuttered. Cosette felt her heart skip a little. He had warm hazel eyes and was covered in freckles. She’d always liked freckles.

The troll had begun climbing out of the ditch, but Combeferre quickly clamped a glowing collar around its neck. “Where do you think you’re going, huh?” he grinned at it. A portal opened behind them and Bahorel and Prince Marius pulled the troll towards it. “See ya later!” Marius called back. Bahorel, Grantaire and Combeferre all waved, and suddenly they were gone. Cosette waved back at where they had been standing, and knew her mind was made up.

 

 

The next morning saw Valjean up early, sweeping the remnants of a broken vase into a dustpan. Enjolras, now dressed in a red T-shirt and black skinny jeans, leant against the living room doorway. “Y’know, with a little magic I could have your house fixed in no time…” he offered.

Valjean smiled. “I think I’d prefer to do things the old-fashioned way, but thank you for the offer, Enjolras,” he said.

Cosette padded down the stairs, clutching a pink suitcase in one hand and holding Wolter’s basket in the other. Valjean’s smile became a little sad. “You’re sure you wanna do this, sweetie?” he said, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, Papa. I need to know more about my powers, and this is the best way to learn.” All of Cosette’s uncertainty from the night before had vanished, replaced by a determined set to her shoulders and an excited gleam in her eyes.

“I know you do,” Valjean nodded. “But you didn’t think I was just going to let you go without checking this school out first, did you?”

“Really?” Cosette beamed. She turned to Enjolras. “You can bring my dad too, right, Enj?”

Enjolras pondered it for a moment. “Well…it’s against the rules. But as they say, rules were meant to be broken!” He grinned. “You ready?”

Valjean had grabbed a jacket from the end of the bannister. “I think so. Cosette?”

“I’m ready, Papa.”

“Then let’s go!” Enjolras cheered. He pulled off his ring and shook it, turning it back into his sceptre. With a swish of the sceptre and a shout of, “To Musain!” they were tumbling through a glowing tunnel, with walls that seemed to be made of pure sunlight. Enjolras looked completely at home, falling gracefully with his arms spread and his knees bent, laughing joyfully, while Valjean and Wolter most certainly were not, were flailing their limbs and shrieking. Cosette suspected she didn’t look much better.

They landed lightly on the grass in the same place as Cosette and Enjolras had been when they were in the bottomless postcard the day before. The castle looked exactly the same, except for several teenage girls and boys entering through the gates, which were now open, and a golden banner strung between the two towers that proclaimed in silver lettering:

WELCOME TO THE MUSAIN COLLEGE FOR FAERIES!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot happens in every chapter. They're all going to be pretty long, but I hope you enjoy them!!!
> 
> Also, a quick note on how magic works in this world:
> 
> There are three main kinds of magical being: Faeries, Wizards and Witches. They all use the same magic, but draw it from different sources and access it in different ways. There are, of course, other humanoid beings in the magical universe, but they are less powerful than the main three types.
> 
> All three types can produce both dark magic and light magic, but they are accessed in different ways - light magic through good feelings such as happiness, and dark magic through bad feelings such as misery or anger. It is generally easier for faeires to use light magic and witches to use dark magic, while wizards are neutral and find it equally easy to use both.
> 
> There are also different stages of magic for all three that must be earned through magical prowess. Wizards don't have a specific magical form, while faeries and witches do. Faeries and witches can still use magic while in human form, however it is not as easily accessed in this form.
> 
> Hope that was useful!


	3. In Which Cosette Makes Some Pretty Great Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette arrives at the Musain College for Faeries, and immediately interesting things begin to happen...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made soooooo many brick references in this chapter. I hope you like it!!

“There it is,” Enjolras smiled fondly. “Come on, let’s go.”

“It certainly looks very fancy,” Valjean commented. “Are you sure we can afford it, though?”

Enjolras looked confused. “Is education not free where you come from?”

Valjean shook his head, and Cosette mumbled something about trust funds and student loans. Enjolras tutted.

“Education is so highly valued here that we don’t charge individuals,” Enjolras explained. “Instead the royal court of every planet donates something towards paying staff and maintaining buildings every year. Magical education is invaluable in the Magic Universe.”

“Whoa,” Cosette murmured.

Valjean looked impressed. “Let’s go then!” He started towards the school, but after a few feet suddenly stumbled back like he’d walked into a lamppost.

But there was nothing there.

“What in the…” he murmured, putting a hand up to… _whatever it was_ that had stopped him. “I… I can’t get through!”

“Really?” Cosette asked. She started forwards too, but nothing threw her back, or even mildly inconvenienced her. “I don’t feel anything. And it’s not stopping Wolter,” she added as the little Dutch rabbit followed her. In shocked surprise, Wolter began examining himself to check that nothing was amiss.

Valjean tried again, but again he was unable to follow her. “I don’t know what it is, ma chèrie. I just can’t walk there.”

Cosette raised an eyebrow at Enjolras. “Enj, did you do that?”

Enjolras shook his head. “No. It’s a magical barrier around the school. It keeps non-magical beings out. I’m sorry, sir,” he turned to Valjean, “but you can’t go any further.”

Valjean sighed sadly. “Well, I guess this is au revoir, Cosette.”

Cosette ran back to him. “Don’t worry, papa. I’ll call you as soon as I can, and I’ll email every day. I’m going to miss you, but I’m really excited! I’m becoming a _faery!_ ”

Valjean hugged his daughter. “This was always going to happen, you going off to college. It’s just a bit earlier than I was expecting. I love you, chou.” He turned to Wolter. “Take care of my little girl for me, eh, Wolter. I know she can protect herself, but look after her heart.” Wolter squeaked in agreement.

“You ready to go back home, sir?” Enjolras asked. When Valjean nodded, the Faery of the Shining Sun once again brandished his sceptre. “Safe journey!”

Valjean vanished, and Enjolras smiled at Cosette. “Come on, let’s go!”

 

 

When they passed through the gates, their attention was caught by a line of teenagers, who were queuing up to speak to -

“Oh, _shiiiiiiiit_ ,” Enjolras groaned. “It’s Professor Javert! He’s the strictest teacher here!”

Cosette took in the professor. He had black greying hair in a ponytail, sharp cheekbones, a large nose and a stern mouth. His skin was tanned, and his eyes were dark and narrow. He was dressed in dark blue robes with a black belt, and wore a monocle on his left eye. He certainly made an impression. “Do we need to speak to him before we go in?” she asked Enjolras.

Enjolras nodded. “We have to register with him.”

“I’m registered with the school, though. Right?” Cosette narrowed her eyes at Enjolras. “ _Right?_ ”

“Well…”

“Seriously?! Didn’t it occur to you that registering might have been a good idea before I dropped out of high school and moved to another dimension?”

Enjolras had the decency to look sheepish. “It’ll be OK,” he assured her. “Uh… Oh! I have an idea!” He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled envelope. “This is a letter from Princess Ursule of Veranda. She was supposed to take up a place here, but she’s decided to be homeschooled instead.” Enjolras shook his head. “Dragon above, we live in a world full of technology and magic, and Veranda is so old-fashioned that they need _me_ to deliver a letter for them.” He grinned. “But I’m not going to deliver it!” He bowed elaborately to Cosette. “From now on, you are Princess Ursule of Veranda!”

“What?” Cosette’s jaw dropped. “No! Enjolras, we can’t lie to them! That’s bad, that’s really bad!”

“Well, it’s either that or -” Enjolras fell silent as a shadow loomed over them. They looked up to see Professor Javert glaring at them.

“Aah, Prince Enjolras,” Javert said coldly. “I see you’re back again.”

“Alright there, Professor?” Enjolras chuckled nervously. “Yeah, I’m back. Heh.”

Javert looked stonily at the blond boy before turning his attention to Cosette. “And who might you be?”

“I…” Cosette’s nerve went, and before she knew it, there was a word-vomit disaster coming out of her mouth. “I’m Princess Ursule of Veranda!” she blurted.

Javert ticked a name on his list and moved on. Enjolras smirked at her and she groaned. “I done fucked up, Enjolras.”

“Come on, Sette! It’s not _that_ bad.” 

Cosette looked at him incredulously. “Enjolras, either way I’m screwed. I have to pretend to be Princess Ursule for _three years_ , or else I get found out and expelled! This is a disaster!”

Enjolras shushed her. “Ssshhh, Ursule. It’s Headmaster Myriel!”

A tiny old man was standing on the steps up to the front doors, smiling fondly at the teenagers in the courtyard. “To our new students, welcome!” he began. “And to our old students, welcome back! Musain College is lucky to have you all. We sincerely hope to provide you with the best magical education possible. Old hands, you’re free to go and unpack. New students - and those repeating their first year -” Enjolras cringed at that - “will stay with us. Professor Javert will be explaining our school policies, and then you can find your dormitories.”

Professor Javert cleared his throat. “This is an institution built on rules and discipline. This school will be your home for the next three years – provided you follow the rules. Otherwise, I will personally escort you to the gate. You’re not here to learn ‘hocus-pocus’. You are here to learn to use your powers seriously. Consequently, you are not allowed to use magic in the hallways; in fact the only place you may display your powers is in the classrooms under teacher supervision.” He glared at Enjolras. “Is that clear, Prince Enjolras? Thanks to you and your antics, the potions laboratory will not be accessible until next month at the earliest! You know how to conduct yourself if you wish to stay here this year.”

“What the hell did you do?” Cosette muttered.

“Nothing!” Enjolras whispered back. “I just… may have… used magic to break open a locked cage and released a bunch of highly destructive Swamp Badgers into the lab.” At Cosette’s disapproving look, he said defensively, “I thought they were going to be dissected! I didn’t realise they were that destructive! Or… that their teeth contain never-healing poison. My dad paid for the damages!”

Headmaster Myriel laughed. “Oh, don’t scare them too much, professor! No need to be so stodgy!” Professor Javert straightened his monocle, looking as though he desperately wanted to roll his eyes. Headmaster Myriel turned and headed up the wide front steps of the school. “Now, follow me please.” He led the students through the huge front doors and into the entrance hall. “Musain is one of the most highly regarded schools in the Magic Dimension,” he began. “Becoming a full-fledged Faery is hard work, but I know that everyone here can do it. Keep in mind that the teachers and I are always here to help you. OK, enough of the boring stuff. Feel free to leave school and head into town; all I ask is that you are back for 9PM sharp. However, you must be careful. There are dangers lurking in this dimension, as in all dimensions.”

“‘Stay away from the Witches of Votirlu’,” Enjolras muttered in a passable imitation of Headmaster Myriel’s voice. “Now he’s gonna say it.”

“Please stay well away from the Witches of Votirlu,” Myriel said seriously. “Alright, speech over. You are free until tomorrow. Classes start at 9AM sharp, so do be punctual!”

“Headmaster Myriel is the best, but Professor Javert is the worst,” Enjolras groaned as they headed through the dormitory corridor. It was lined with green doors that had opaque yellow stained-glass panels, and Enjolras stopped to check the names on each one as he went.

“What was all that about staying away from the Witches of Votirlu?” Cosette asked. “He sounded really serious. Are Witches bad?”

“Oh right, yeah,” Enjolras nodded. “So, there are three genus’ of humanoids in the magical dimension. There are Faeries, like us. Our magic comes from positive forces, like happiness, belief, and love. Wizards, like those cute boys from Corinthe – Corinthe is the college for Wizards, run by Monsieur Lamarque. Their magic comes from neutral forces, like nature. And then there are Witches. Their magic comes from negative forces – anger, chaos, darkness, etcetera. Their college is Votirlu, run by seriously creepy Monsieur Thénardier. And some of those Witches can be _really_ mean.”

“Is it possible to change between any of them?” Cosette asked curiously. “Or is it biological?”

“That’s… less easy to answer,” Enjolras replied. “With Wizards, it’s pretty much biological, but there are different kinds of Wizards. With Faeries and Witches though, it depends on the person, really. If you wanted to be a Witch, but you’re fuelled by, say, flowers or music or order, you’re probably better off being a Faery. In our world, genus doesn’t come from physical features, but from emotional ones instead.” He straightened up from the plaque outside one of the doors. “Hey, we’re in the same dorm!” he said excitedly.

Cosette breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God. It’ll be a lot easier pretending to be Princess Ursule if you’re with me.”

Enjolras opened the door and gestured for Cosette to enter. Her jaw dropped instantly – it was less of a dormitory, and more a stylish apartment. The main room was large and bright, with pastel pink and purple walls, and green doorframes with yellow stained-glass panels similar to the main door. On the wall opposite the door, there was an enormous oval window with a glass door in the lower centre that led out to a pale pink balcony. The room was decorated with plushy green couches and armchairs with yellow and lilac cushions, and a pale wooden coffee table sat in the centre. Near the balcony was a matching larger table. Overall, it was an extremely nice apartment by college standards.

The blond boy pointed to a small list next to one of the four other doors. “I think I’m in this room.”

Cosette looked at the lists on each other door until she found the one marked ‘Ursule’. “Guess I’m in this one. I have a roommate, do you? 

“Yeah. They’re not here yet, though.”

“Looks like I’m about to meet mine,” Cosette murmured, noticing the silhouette on the other side of the door. She pushed it open and walked in. She’d barely had time to admire the blue and lilac beds with their neat yellow bedspreads when she stood on something that screamed.

Cosette immediately leapt backwards, yelping apologies. “I’m sorry! Shit, sorry, sorry!”

“Don’t be,” laughed an ethereal voice. A beautiful person (she couldn’t tell what gender) stepped forwards, smiling. They had waist-length ginger hair, a tanned, freckly, thin face, wide green eyes, a delicate button nose, and long awkward limbs with delicate hands and feet.

“I’m Jehan Prouvaire,” they introduced themselves. “Pronouns they/them, please.” They were wearing clothes that looked both ridiculous and, somehow, correct: a pale yellow-green blouse with a frilly collar and cuffs, a floor-length pink skirt decorated with strawberry-shaped appliqués, and glittery pink sandals. They picked up the screaming thing – a creature with a large blue beak and long green tentacle-things. “Oh, calm down, you big baby, she didn’t step on you _that_ hard.” They tickled the thing’s beak and smiled at Cosette. “This is Yorick. It’s a Narratioflore Magnocaeruleo. It’s not very eloquent yet, but we’re getting there.”

“O-OK,” Cosette stuttered. She took a tentative step backwards – maybe it was safer to just wait in the living area until Jehan was settled. “I’ll just go wait for you and your – what did you say it was? Horatio-magna-Leo to get settled in and – oof!” She had bumped into someone who had been standing behind her. “Sorry!” she groaned, turning to face a boy about the same height as her.

“Don’t be!” the boy said cheerfully. “Narratioflore Magnocaeruleo, right? That you were trying to pronounce? Commonly known as the Talking Bluebell.” So Yorick was a plant – a talking plant. That was pretty cool. “Walking backwards is illogical, but I guess weird behaviours are pretty normal when you’re in a new environment,” the boy continued, holding out a hand to her and smiling brightly. “I’m Courfeyrac!” Courfeyrac had curly brown hair, freckles, and bright green eyes full of excitement. He was wearing a purple sweater, a blue button-up shirt, green Capri-pants, purple-and-green sneakers and a wide smile.

“I’m Jehan Prouvaire!” Jehan replied. “They/them.”

“Cool!” Courfeyrac grinned. “He/him.”

“I’m, uh, Ursule,” Cosette remembered. “She/her.”

There was a thud from behind Courfeyrac, followed by a loud shout of “Fuck!” The three Faeries turned to see who it was – a girl with dark hair and narrow eyes – well, one visible narrow eye, with a dark brown iris. Her jagged Emo fringe covered her left eye, and the rest of her hair was knotted into two tight buns on either side of her head. “Fuck, sorry,” she groaned. “I tripped over the table. I was just – _really_ into this music.” She gestured to the bright orange headphones around her neck. An ethereal-sounding orchestral symphony was blasting from them – contrasting heavily with her punk-rock clothes; a yellow one-strap crop top, green cargo shorts and heavy black boots. Her eyeliner was sharper than a knife.

Courfeyrac dashed over to help her with her suitcase, which had burst open. “Here!” he said, handing her a set of blue-lacquered hair chopsticks. “I think these are yours?”

“Oh! Yes, thank you so much!” the girl said relievedly. “They’re not broken, thank fuck.” She smiled at him. “I’m Éponine.”

“I’m Courfeyrac!”

“I’m Jehan,” Jehan added, and Cosette waved.

“I’m Ursule.”

Courfeyrac finished helping Éponine pick up her belongings. “Hey, I think I have a roommate, is it one of you?” he asked the room.

“It’s me!” Enjolras poked his head out of his door. “I’m Enjolras.”

Courfeyrac bounded over to shake his hand. “Nice to meet you! I’m Courfeyrac!”

“Is that all of us, then?” Jehan asked. “We could maybe go into town and get to know each other a bit better, since we’re going to be sharing this room for the next three years most probably.”

“Yeah!” Cosette enthused, forgetting her shyness. These people all seemed lovely. “We could go for pizza!”

Her fellow Faeries looked deeply confused. “Pizza?” Éponine asked. “What is ‘pizza’?”

“It’s the national dish of Veranda,” Enjolras invented. “Right, Ursule?”

Cosette nodded hurriedly. “It’s like, bread with tomato sauce and cheese and sometimes vegetables or meat, and you bake it in an oven. It’s the best!”

 

 

They got a bus into town, from the special Musain College bus stop. It was almost the same as an Earth bus, to Cosette’s surprise, except it didn’t have wheels, instead hovering above the ground. When Courfeyrac found out that Cosette had never been to Magix City before, he insisted on covering her eyes until they were off the bus 

“Can I look now?” Cosette asked.

“Not just yet,” Courfeyrac replied. “OK… Now!” He removed his hands and Cosette opened her eyes. The Main Street of Magix City was… actually, it was surprisingly ordinary. The buildings had swirling, geometric shapes, and the cars and busses and trucks all hovered over the ground, but apart from that it was indistinguishable from a main street back in Paris.

Éponine noticed her expression. “You seem disappointed,” she commented.

“Well, yeah,” Cosette said. “It’s so… _ordinary_. It’s supposed to be the most magical city in the Magic Dimension, and this is it!”

“What were you expecting?” Éponine laughed.

“I dunno, dragons? Gnomes? Magic wand shops and back street magic duels?”

Enjolras laughed even more than Éponine. “That’s fairy-tale stuff! This is the real world! Here, everything lives off its own magical energy. Magic is everywhere!”

Cosette yelped as she realised she’d stepped onto the road and narrowly missed being run over by a red hovercar. The driver snapped his fingers, and a space instantly opened up in the parking bay across the street, where he parked his vehicle. “Good heavens!” Cosette murmured.

“If you want to see magic, you’ve just got to look,” Enjolras continued.

“Now let’s go find some of this ‘pizza’,” Jehan smiled.

 

 

As the Faeries walked down the sidewalk, they passed an optician’s store. Inside, an ogre was trying on various frames, but glanced up when he saw the Faeries pass by outside. He turned to the optician. “Excuse me, did you just see what I saw?” he asked, eyes wide.

“What?”

“A group of teenagers walked past. There were two blondes, a boy and a girl?”

“Oh, yeah,” the optician replied. “They’ll be new students from Musain College for Faeries. Today’s the first day of the new term.”

The ogre knew he’d recognised the blond kids! He immediately dashed out of the shop to follow them, ignoring the optician’s startled yell and demand for him to come back and pay for the glasses still perched on his nose.

 _I must warn my Highnesses immediately!_ the ogre thought to himself. _They’re in Magix too, they can deal with things themselves this time!_ He pulled a mobile phone out of the pocket on his grimy dungarees and hit speed dial.

A high, cold voice answered. “Larbin, what do you want this time, you useless, smelly ogre?” it demanded crankily.

“Highness! The super-powerful faery and her friends are in Magix City!” he replied hurriedly.

“Really?” the voice replied. “That sounds too good to be true! Prince Enjolras’ sceptre will be ours! Now listen to me! You won’t fail this time, or else I’ll curse you so hard you’ll have to look up to look down, got it?"

“No, no curses please!” Larbin begged. “I promise this time I won’t fail!” 

 

 

Cosette had been seriously surprised that they'd been able to find pizza in Magix. Her new friends were all stuffing their faces with it, and it cheered her to know that Faeries could like pizza as much as she did. Still, the pizza was the only thing she'd been satisfied with about her Magix City experience so far. The mobile phone signal was terrible. She groaned as she tried to call her dad to reassure him that she was OK. “I don’t get it!” she tried holding the phone at different angles to get a signal. “There’s no signal on my phone! There should be a ton of it out here!”

Courfeyrac grabbed it. “Let me take a look,” he said. “I’m very good with electronic stuff. He clicked the home button, and immediately burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Éponine asked.

“This phone,” Courfeyrac choked out. “It’s practically prehistoric! Where did you get that thing?”

“It’s the latest model,” Cosette said confusedly. “It’s a Samsung Galaxy A3! It’s meant to be really good.”

“On Earth, maybe,” Enjolras murmured quietly.

Courfeyrac handed her back her phone. “Sorry,” he apologised. “I shouldn’t have laughed. That was rude.”

 

 

In Paris, Jean Valjean picked up the ringing landline phone and answered. “Cosette!” he said relievedly. “How’s the new college?”

“Salut, Papa!” Cosette said excitedly. She was using a payphone in Magix. “Everything is great here! I’m sharing an apartment with Enjolras and three other students! We all went out for pizza together… No, courses don’t start until tomorrow morning, but I’ll keep you posted! …Yes, I understand. I won’t forget, I promise!” Her gaze was caught by a familiar hulking silhouette passing the phone booth. “Uh, Papa? I’ve gotta go now,” she said uneasily. “I’m using someone else’s phone pass. So, uh, hugs and kisses, I love you… bye!” Cosette pulled Courfeyrac’s phone pass out of the slot in the booth; he’d lent her it to make up for laughing at her phone. Cosette followed the silhouette of the ogre who’d attacked Enjolras in Paris down the Main Street and into an alley, realising that it led back to the café where her fellow Faeries were sitting. She gasped softly as she realised the ogre was spying on her friends. He must have heard her gasp, because he turned back around, and Cosette hurriedly crouched behind some wooden crates. The ogre stumped past her hiding place and down another alley that led off of the main one. Cosette followed him, keeping herself low to the ground. She peeked above the crates when she reached the alley he’d vanished down, and gasped in realisation when she saw the ogre approach three more figures at the other end.

_Witches!_

The middle one, the tallest, dressed in blue and seemingly the leader, stepped forwards. He had white-blonde hair and icy blue eyes, and a high, cold voice. “Well, Larbin?” he demanded.

The ogre stuttered. “Uh, I saw the blond boy with the magic sceptre in a café, and, uh, he was with his friends.”

“We’ve got to have that sceptre,” the cold-voiced Witch muttered. Suddenly, one of his friends – the only girl, who had ankle-length brown hair and was wearing black and purple – turned and closed her yellow eyes as though in pain. She whispered something to her friends, but Cosette was too far to hear. The ogre moved in front of the Witches, and she couldn’t lip-read either. “Move, you big lug!” she whispered in annoyance. “I can’t see a thing!”

 

 

The brunette Witch whispered to her friends, “Shut up, dumbasses. We’re being watched. I’ll take care of it.” She made sure that she was well behind Larbin, and clapped her hands twice. A clone of herself shot out of her chest, and she cackled quietly. “Now all I have to do it disappear, and she’ll stay here.” The Witch snapped her fingers, vanishing instantly. Larbin stepped aside, and to Cosette, it looked as though nothing had changed. “That’s better,” she murmured.

The brunette Witch reappeared behind her, and zapped her in the back with a burst of purple magic waves. “Boo!” she laughed.

Cosette yelped as she was thrown forwards. She landed at the feet of the three Witches, who smirked down at her.

The tall, white-haired Witch flicked the clone of the brunette Witch with his fingertip, and the clone vanished instantly. “So, did you like our little joke?” he grinned.

“Look behind you,” a female voice came from behind Cosette, and she turned to face the real brunette Witch, who giggled meanly. “Surprise!” She walked around to stand with her cohorts.

Cosette scrambled backwards and raised a hand in warning. “Get back!” she snapped, sounding far more confident than she felt. “I’m a Faery!” Golden sparks burst from her palm, flying through the air towards the Witches, but faltering and vanishing after a few seconds.

The Witch in blue laughed. “You call that magic? I’ll show you magic!” He raised his left palm, and shards of ice spun into existence, surrounding Cosette and trapping her. “Now _that_ ’s magic!”

The brunette Witch laughed in agreement. She blasted violet waves at Cosette. “And _that_ ’s magic!” The ice that had trapped Cosette vanished, and she was once again blasted off her feet.

The third Witch smirked. He had frizzy indigo hair, bright orange eyes, and wore green. He didn’t say anything, he simply snarled and raised his hands, causing a small tornado to whirl into existence. It lifted Cosette up and deposited her so that she was grasping onto the side of a building. She screamed in terror.

 

 

Back at the café, Courfeyrac pushed his hair out of his face. “Where’s Ursule? She should be back by now.”

“Maybe she got lost?” Jehan suggested.

 

 

“Get down here!” the blue Witch snarled, blasting Cosette with an icy breeze and pulling her back down to Earth. “I’m not done yet!” As she landed, he shot more ice underneath her, sealing her up in an ice block. “The final touch,” he sniggered, pacing towards the block. He scratched sharp fingernails down the side of the ice block. “So, you’re a Faery, huh? Well, we are Patron-Minette!”

“Leave her alone!” Enjolras yelled at the Witch. “Take us on instead, I fucking dare you!”

The Witch snorted at the sight of the four Faeries, who had gone searching for their friend when she hadn’t returned. “Pathetic,” he laughed. “Larbin, they’re all yours. Have fun.”

The ogre dashed towards the Faeries, snarling. The four of them leapt away from him, and together they cried, “Transform!”

Courfeyrac was the first to change, with a shout of "Courfeyrac, Faery of Technology!" He now wore a lilac playsuit with a green gem in the centre of the chest, pale blue elbow-length fingerless gloves and knee-high boots, a pale blue headband with a green gem, and he had triangular green translucent wings.

Jehan cried "Jehan, Faery of Nature!" and was now wearing a pale pink long-sleeved playsuit with a dark pink bodice and a green belt. Their ankle boots were the same pale pink, and the flower charm on their green choker matched their hairclip. Their wings were pale green and petal-shaped.

Éponine shouted, "Éponine, Faery of Music!" She now wore bright yellow headphones that matched her dress. It had one strap, and the midriff was made of blue mesh. She wore matching blue armbands and knee-high yellow boots, and her blue wings were more traditionally fairy-like, four-pronged with rounded tips.

Enjolras shouted "Enjolras, Faery of the Shining Sun!" and was once again wearing his red top, shorts and boots with matching black accessories, and his ring had once again become his sceptre. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he grinned, twirling the sceptre with acrobatic ease.

The violet-haired Witch narrowed his eyes. “The boy with the sceptre!” he snarled.

Courfeyrac raised his hands and shouted, “Static Sphere!” A blast of green energy surrounded the ogre, crackling like electricity, forming into a circular cage that lifted him off his feet.

Éponine spun and blasted magenta light at the cage. “Sonic Blast!” The entire alleyway shook with low-frequency vibrations.

“Golden Pollen!” Jehan shouted, blowing on their hands. As though they had been holding the pollen, it scattered over the ground and burst into bloom instantly, wrapping the ogre in an enormous glowing vine and shaking him. The cage and the vibrations vanished, and the vine flung Larbin through the air, sending him crashing against the crates Cosette had been hiding behind. The blue Witch groaned.

“What a blockhead.” He turned to the Faeries. “Alright, losers, you asked for it!” With impressive dramatic flair, he grabbed the corners of his cloak and unfurled them, sending more diamond-sharp shards of ice towards them.

“Get behind me!” Courfeyrac yelled. “Firewall!” A bright green shield appeared in front of him, and the ice shattered against it.

The Witch in green looked furious. He sent blast after blast of lightening at the shield until it vanished and Courfeyrac was knocked off his feet.

The ice Witch cackled. “Prepare to join your little friend here!” He gestured to Cosette and raised his arms above his head.

Enjolras raised his sceptre. “No thanks,” he said, sounding surprisingly unworried. “See you later, we’re out of here.” He swung his sceptre through the air, and he and his fellow Faeries, including Cosette, vanished from the alleyway as the blue Witch unleashed a flurry of icy blasts.

When the ice settled, the blue Witch prepared to gloat, but his eyes widened in fury as he realised the Faeries had all vanished.

 

 

“Cosette, wake up!” Cosette opened her eyes slowly. Enjolras was smiling down at her, and she felt warm all over. “Cosette, you’re OK now! Y’know, for an Earthling, you did great. You were very brave to try and take them on alone.” She realised he was using his sun magic to warm her up.

“Enjolras,” three voices chorused sternly behind him. Enjolras turned and grinned sheepishly at Jehan, Courfeyrac and Éponine.

“Is there anything we should know about ‘Ursule of Veranda’?” Jehan glared. “Or should I say, ‘Cosette of Earth’?”

“Uh, well…” Enjolras stuttered. For such a small, soft-spoken person, Jehan’s glare was quite frankly terrifying. “So we might have been fibbing a bit about her background… I’ll explain everything back at Musain.”

Cosette giggled a little. Enjolras’ sheepishness was pretty funny.

 

 

The sceptre transported them straight to the courtyard of Musain college, and Enjolras breathed a sigh of relief at the apparent lack of teachers – until a searchlight beamed down on them. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” Professor Javert snapped.

Headmaster Myriel stood beside him. “We were worried sick about you,” he said concernedly. “And with good reason! Why are you all transformed?” Enjolras began to stutter an explanation, but Myriel shook his head. “Never mind, all of you go straight to bed. We’ll go over the rules in the morning.”

The Faeries headed past the two teachers, but Professor Javert stopped Cosette in her tracks. “Not so fast, Princess Ursule!” he snapped. “I did a background check! Isn’t there something you’d like to tell us?”

Cosette sighed unhappily. All that trouble for nothing. She knew she would be expelled for this. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered unhappily. “I’m not Princess Ursule of Veranda.”

“Ha!” Javert glared. “I knew it!”

“I’m sorry, this was all my idea,” Enjolras started, but Cosette shook her head.

“No, it’s alright, Enj. I’m Cosette Valjean of Earth,” she explained to Myriel and Javert.

Javert’s eyes widened so much that his monocle fell out. “A world outwith the Magical Dimension?” he said in shock. “It’s not possible!”

“And yet, she must be magical, as the barrier let her through,” Myriel said, deep in thought.

Cosette shrugged. “I met Enjolras yesterday, when he was attacked in my home city, Paris. I… used some sort of magic to help him, and he suggested I come here with him to find out more about my powers.” She gestured to her friends – at least, she hoped she could still call them that. “They’re all transformed because the thing that attacked Enjolras in Paris attacked me here tonight, they were only trying to protect me.” She gazed at Professor Javert desperately. “Please, I beg of you, Monsieur, don’t expel my friends! They’re good people. I know I have deceived you, and I accept whatever punishment you give me. Even if it is expulsion.”

Javert opened his mouth, but abruptly closed it again when Headmaster Myriel raised one hand. “We will not expel you, dear,” he assured Cosette. “I must say, I am curious as to these… powers. Earth has been magic-free for centuries, but perhaps…” he trailed off, but then his face grew sterner again. “Of course, you all will have to face punishment for use of magic outside of school, but none of you will be expelled. As it is the first day, you can expect to receive your punishment sometime in the next two weeks. Professor Javert will call you into his office when the time comes.” He clapped his hands twice. “Off to bed now, all of you. Quite enough excitement for one day, I think.”

As the Faeries hurried off to their apartment, Myriel once again squinted in confusion. “I thought the last Earth Faery vanished hundreds of years ago.”

“Indeed they did, Headmaster,” Javert screwed his monocle back into place.

“Well then,” Myriel murmured. “Who is Cosette?”

 

 

“Who?” Enjolras, Jehan, Courfeyrac and Éponine chorused.

Cosette smiled and got up from her bed. “Les Amis! If we’re going to be a group we should have a name, don’t you think? ‘Les Amis’ is French for ‘The Friends’, and after tonight, I can say with no doubt that you guys are the greatest friends I’ll ever meet.”

“I like it,” Éponine said thoughtfully. “‘Les Amis’. I’d be proud to call you guys my friends.”

“Me too,” Enjolras added.

“Me three!” beamed Jehan.

“That’s grammatically incorrect,” Courfeyrac chuckled. “But it is pretty funny. And I agree, ‘Les Amis’ is a great name! A name is good for quick reference.”

“Those Witches call themselves ‘Patron-Minette’,” Cosette added. “That’s where I got the idea. Although, I find it pretty amusing that they chose a name that roughly translates to ‘Boss Kitty’.”

As her new friends fell about laughing, Cosette hugged herself. She really was lucky to have met them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, this chapter is done!! It might be a while before I post the next chapter, just warning y'all, but thanks for sticking with me!!


	4. In Which There Is A Party And A Plot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette attends her first class at Musain, and learns that school works a little differently in Magix. Meanwhile, Patron-Minette is still up to no good...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly had a panic attack in the middle of writing this because my computer went berserk and nearly deleted most of it. Luckily I got it back. I hope it was worth it!!!

The sun shone through the windows of Professor Wizgiz’s classroom, lighting up the first class of the year. Wizgiz himself was perched on the desk as Les Amis and their classmates filed into the room. He was the only Leprechaun on staff; a sprightly little man with spectacular curly sideburns, wearing a green three-piece suit with a yellow shirt and a huge green hat. He spoke in a sharp Irish accent, and addressed them as they entered. “Good morning, students. For those of you who haven’t met me yet, I am Professor Wizgiz, and as always, it befalls me to lead the first class of the year: Transfiguration. On this course, you will learn the classic magical ability to transform an object from one form to another. We’re going to start with the most basic type of transfiguration: self-transfiguration.” With the class all seated, he leapt off the desk and scrunched up his face. With a loud snapping noise, his features morphed into those of Professor Javert. The entire class burst into applause. Javert-Wizgiz laughed. “Oh, that’s nothing. After a few years of practise, you’ll all be able to do even better than that!” He leapt onto Enjolras’ desk, and the blond boy jumped in surprise. “Of course,” the professor continued, “every ending has a beginning. So we’re going to start with a simple exercise: changing the colour of your own hair!” He clapped his hands, and a mirror appeared on every desk. “Look at your reflection, and concentrate on changing the colour of your hair!”

Cosette glanced around at her friends. Jehan’s ginger locks had turned neon green, while Éponine’s ebony buns glowed bright blue. Courfeyrac’s hair was turning purple, and Enjolras’ curls had turned a vivid scarlet. She focused hard on her mirror, willing her hair to turn from pale gold to bright pink, scrunching her face and concentrating… nothing. She sighed as she gazed at the rainbow of her classmates’ heads. Professor Wizgiz smiled encouragingly at her.

“Don’t worry, Cosette,” he said. “If at first you don’t succeed, try again!”

Cosette smiled back. It was nice to have a professor who didn’t yell at you for mistakes.

 

 

After class, Cosette went straight back to the room she shared with Jehan, and tried again, but to no avail. Enjolras came in to help her, but he looked more than a little frustrated. “Cosette, it’s OK if you can’t do it. It was your first class, being unable to do one of the exercises isn’t the end of the world.”

Cosette shook her head. “I was nearly expelled yesterday, Enjolras. I don’t want to fall behind in classwork at all. Please, just one more try?” She held up the mirror.

“OK, fine,” Enjolras sighed. “Now, close your eyes and think of a colour. Concentrate on that colour, and imagine your hair turning that colour. Imagine the colour slowly spreading from the root of your hair to the tip.”

This time, Cosette could feel tingles in her scalp. She excitedly opened her eyes, but sighed when she realised all that had happened was her fringe reacting to magic as though she’d touched a Vandergraph generator; it was sticking up on end, crackling with golden sparks. She flung herself back on the bed with a groan.

“‘Sette, you’re not concentrating!” Enjolras chastised her. “I can feel it. You’ve got a bunch of thoughts zipping around your head like a flock of bunnies!” He chuckled. “Your hair is very punk, though.”

“At least something happened,” Jehan offered from where they were watering their Narratioflore Magnocaeruleo. They sat down on the bed next to Cosette and swatted at Enjolras, who was still giggling. “Oh, stop laughing at her!” they smiled.

Cosette sighed even harder. “Why should he?” she asked rhetorically. “I mean, look at this, I’m ridiculous!”

Jehan smoothed her fringe down. “No, you’re not,” they said firmly. “All you need is a bit of practice.”

Cosette sat up. “Can I ask you guys something?” she said tentatively. When they nodded, she continued. “Why are you here at Musain?”

Enjolras stood up. “So I can become a real Faery! Powerful, kind, able to help people! I want to make this world a fair place, where everyone can be happy – like my parents.” He sighed sadly. “They’re divorced, you know. I wish I could at least just make them listen to each other.”

“I want to become a real Faery too,” Jehan added. “I wish I could save the environment, starting with endangered flowers. But I’m also here because I love to learn. What about you, ‘Sette?”

Cosette got up and paced over to the window that looked out over the courtyard. “That’s the problem. My powers are so new, and up until now I was a pretty ordinary kid. I’m not really sure _what_ I’m doing here.”

 

 

At breakfast the next day, Headmaster Myriel made an announcement. “As is the tradition between the Magic Schools, the Gala for new students will be held tonight! Students from the Musain College for Faeries and from the Corinthe College for Wizards will gather here in this castle in order to perform the traditional Welcome Gift Exchange ceremony.”

The room erupted in excited whispers as Faeries speculated on what the Gala would be like. Professor Javert clapped his hands sharply. “Silence!” he shouted. “Headmaster Myriel is speaking, let’s show a little respect!”

Myriel chuckled. “Thank you, Professor. One more thing.” He surveyed the students with a smile. “I am calling on all of your creative talents to prepare the dining room for the party. Today’s classes are cancelled, and may you do us proud!”

 

 

****Meanwhile, about 5 miles away…** **

Votirlu College had a far more threatening appearance than Musain College. It was a spiralling castle made of smooth purplish stone, with huge scarlet stained-glass windows and circular pillars. The roofs were turret-style, and the entire structure seemed to pulse with dark magic.

The main hall of the building was right in the centre. Built like a lecture theatre with about 100 seats on banks that all looked down into a central stage with an enormous throne, it was currently full of Senior Year Witches - including the coven, Patron-Minette, who had attacked the Amis a few days before. At that moment, all of the students were watching Headmaster Thénardier intently.

He was an odd-looking man, with curly red hair and yellow eyes, teeth that seemed too big for his mouth, and dull skin that had turned yellowish. His nose was sharp, but not as sharp as his scarlet pupils. He wore long dark red robes, patterned with strange symbols, and his voice was a combination of gravelly and smooth.

“My young Witches,” he began. ”I have summoned you here because I have a sad piece of news to share. Musain College is hosting a party tonight, and once again the Witches of Votirlu have not been invited.” The Witches booed loudly, and Thénardier smirked. “Yes, Witches, I agree with you, but this is an excellent opportunity to test your cursing skills. It is the duty of every Witch in this room to crash that party and thoroughly ruin it for the Faeries. They’ve snubbed us, and we’ll make them pay! So today’s assignment is to come up with a way to ruin the party! Submit your proposals, and I will select the nastiest. May the worst Witch win!”

As the room erupted in cheers and the Witches began jotting notes down for ideas, the brunette member of Patron-Minette, whose name was Claquesous, turned to her companions. “What do you think?” she asked. “Shall we come up with a little scheme?”

“Why not?” the ice Witch, whose name was Babet, agreed.

The third Witch, who went by the name Gueulemer, groaned loudly. “Why though? We’d just be wasting our time!”

Babet leaned back in his seat. “Trust me, Mer, it will be worth it.” A grin slowly spread across his face.

 

 

Back in Musain, Les Amis were heading back to their apartment. Courfeyrac looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself. “Classes are cancelled, and it’s just our second day,” he said. “This place is, like, the opposite of Zenith, my home planet.”

“What do we have to do for the party?” Cosette asked, turning to Enjolras.

Enjolras shrugged. “From what I learned last year, look pretty and avoid talking about politics. Some Wizards have surprisingly strong views on the Andros Division.”

Cosette was about to ask what the Andros Division was, but Jehan had twirled ahead of the group, looking exuberant. “This will be so fun!” they laughed. They snapped their fingers, and vines spiralled up the wall, sprouting delicate pink flowers. “What do you think of Fumigari Odoribus for the decorations?” The flowers began emitting a sweet, light scent, and all the Faeries in the surrounding area breathed in delightedly.

“I’ll DJ,” Éponine smiled. “What’s a party without music?”

“All you have to do, Sette,” Enjolras said, “is worry about what to wear.”

 

 

Back in their room, Cosette admired Jehan’s gorgeous dress. The bodice was fuchsia, the skirt baby-pink, and it had ruffles running down the sides. The straps were dark green, and three fell over each of Jehan’s shoulders. They were wearing their hair in two Princess Leia style space buns, but most of it tumbled down their back, and a pink floaty veil-thing was clipped into their hair. Golden bangles glittered at their wrists. They looked amazing, and Cosette said so.

Jehan blushed happily. “Thank you! Now, let’s see your dress!”

Cosette laughed awkwardly. “I don’t exactly have a fancy dress with me… do you think they’d let me in like this?” She gestured to her skinny jeans and lacy top.

Jehan shook their head sadly. “The gala’s a pretty formal event. Maybe Éponine has a dress you could borrow?”

Unfortunately, Éponine didn’t have another dress, but she did present a solution: shopping. Courfeyrac and Enjolras both had their suits ready, but they agreed to come with to help Cosette choose a dress. They hopped on a bus, and were in Magix City in 15 minutes. This time, Cosette was a little overwhelmed with how many clothes shops there were, and Éponine pushed her into one called _Xeron_. The first dress she tried on was fuchsia with ruffles, but they all agreed it was a little too similar to Jehan’s dress. The next one was yellow and pleated with matching elbow-length gloves, but the general consensus was that it was too similar in colour to her hair, and Jehan suggested maybe looking at quirkier styles.

Cosette emerged from the changing room in a shiny blue dress. It had one strap and showed off her belly-button, and she looked gorgeous. The Amis all nodded in approval, and Cosette glanced at the price tag, her face falling. §135.50 - far too expensive for a dress she would most likely wear only once. “Too expensive,” she sighed, and vanished back inside the changing room.

Enjolras reached for his wallet. “I’ll pay for it -” he offered, but Jehan shook their head.

“You might offend her,” they pointed out. “We don’t know Earth customs.”

 

 

Outside the shop, Cosette sighed in defeat. “Now what?”

“It’s getting kinda late,” Courfeyrac pointed out. “We should probably head back soon.”

Cosette smiled at him. “It’s fine, you guys go back. I’ll find __something__.”

Her friends waved goodbye, and Cosette decided to look for a thrift store - but she found something even better: a 50% off everything sale in the window of a shop called _Bunni._

After nearly half-an-hour of trawling through the _Must Go_  rack, she struck gold: a dress the same colour as the one in _Xeron_ , but far cheaper - §18.99! She hurried to buy it and catch a bus back to Musain.

 

 

At Votirlu, Patron-Minette had been called into Headmaster Thénardier’s office, and he was surveying them through narrow yellow eyes. “Of all the ideas I’ve seen, I’ve never seen anything as despicable as yours!” he was snarling. “It’s horrible, it’s ghastly, it’s disgusting - in other words, it’s the best!” His snarl became a grin. “Well done, you three. Great start to the year.”

“Thanks, Professor,” Babet said silkily.

Thénardier got up from his desk and began to pace down the room. “Don’t let me down,” he warned.

“You can trust us, Professor,” Claquesous reassured him.

 

 

Cosette hurried back to Musain with about 20 minutes to spare. She dashed into her room; Jehan was nowhere to be seen, but Wolter was asleep on her bed. She chatted to him while she searched for a pair of scissors. “Putain de merde, Wolter, I have 20 minutes to fix this dress! It’s way too long.” Giving up on the scissors, she pursed her lips in thought. “Well… I guess it’s worth a shot,” she decided. She concentrated, and suddenly a narrow beam of light was shooting from her pointer finger. “Booyah!” she whispered, and carefully directed it along the hem of the dress. It was like a laser cutter in its precision, melting the threads together so they wouldn’t come loose - but it worked a little too well. The dress was beginning to smoke around the hemline, and Cosette yelped and smothered it with the duvet. The fire out, she opened the window to clear the room of the smoky smell, and groaned when she recognised the boys who were currently walking through the courtyard with their classmates. Grantaire, Bahorel, Combeferre and Prince Marius were all there, and her dress was charred and still too long, Goddammit! Cosette decided to leave her room and search the art department for a pair of scissors.

 

 

In a tunnel somewhere underneath Musain, Babet was leading Patron-Minette down it with the aid of a flashlight. “This is it,” he grinned. “What did I tell you? These tunnels have been abandoned for centuries, or at least since the invention of phones. Back then, they were used to move between the three schools in emergencies.”

Claquesous squinted at a map. “The entrance to the Musain tunnels are right up ahead. We’re almost there then.”

“Let the fun begin,” Gueulemer chuckled. He’d been much more on board with the plan since he’d found out what it would involve.

 

 

Cosette opened what she hoped was the door to the art department and found a set of stairs going down. She tentatively started down them, but stopped abruptly when she heard voices.

“How much further?” a girl groaned.

“Don’t ask me,” a boy snapped. “You’re the one with the map.”

Cosette recognised the voices with a mounting horror. They were the Witches who had attacked her in Magix City! She darted back up the stairs and hid behind the door.

The three Witches exited the tunnel and headed down the corridor, Cosette silently following them. They stopped next to a chest stamped with a triangular symbol. “The Corinthe coat of arms,” the girl said. “I wonder what those simpletons are going to give the Faeries?”

“Whatever they are, we’ll use them to wreak havoc and spread panic,” the white-haired boy said. “That will give us a chance to get the ring. Go on, Claquesous, show us where it is.”

The girl, who Cosette now knew to be called Claquesous, grinned coolly. “With pleasure, Babet.” She closed her eyes and focussed hard, creating a bubble in front of them.

Enjolras appeared in the bubble. He slid his sceptre-ring off his finger, and carefully shut it in a jewellery box, before tucking the box into a chest of drawers.

The bubble vanished, and Babet grinned. “Excellent work, Claq. Now we know where the ring is.” He turned to the third Witch. “Gueulemer, time to do your thing.”

Gueuelemer grinned. “At last!” He blasted the chest open, revealing several beautifully crafted Fabergé eggs. Claquesous touched one with a gloved hand.

“Aww,” she hummed. “They’re enchanted to decorate themselves to match the Aura of the Faery touching it.”

“How tacky,” Babet rolled his eyes. “I much prefer our plan. Ready?” The three Witches raised their hands, and Babet spoke. “These eggs will become Snakerat eggs…”

“That will hatch at the touch of a Faery,” Claquesous continued.

“And spread terror all over!” Gueulemer finished.

The eggs glowed, and their beautiful white shells were suddenly yellow and orange swirls. Cosette shook in horror from her hiding spot behind a heavy velvet curtain. Patron-Minette cackled as a group - Cosette wondered if Votirlu offered a lecture on group-cackling - and headed off down the corridor.

 

 

When they reached a dead end, Claquesous snapped her fingers and the wall briefly vanished, long enough for them to leave the building and hurry around the side of it. Babet led his cousins into a thicket, and crouched among the bushes. “We’ll hide back here so we can enjoy the show,” he grinned, pointing to the huge yellow stained-glass dome of the Musain dining room.

 

 

Cosette herself entered the dining room, which was now devoid of tables and benches and instead had several white-clothed buffets lining the walls. It was full of Faeries and Wizards mingling. She darted through the crowd, searching for her friends, when she bumped into a Wizard. Cosette stumbled backwards and then blinked in recognition. Grantaire!

The tall, freckly redhead smiled at her in greeting. “Cosette! Hi!”

“Hi Grantaire,” Cosette smiled.

“I’m so relieved to see you here,” Grantaire laughed. “At least I know someone from Musain already.”

“It’s nice to see you,” Cosette smiled awkwardly. She’d just spotted Enjolras’ red suit across the room. “Sorry, Grantaire, I have to go.”

“...OK,” Grantaire said in confusion as she darted away. “See you later?”

Cosette found the Amis and dragged them out into the corridor. “Cosette, what on Magix -” Courfeyrac began.

“This is an emergency!” Cosette explained. “Those Witches from yesterday, Patron-Minette, were here! They’ve cast a spell on the presents from Corinthe, I saw them! Apparently it will involve something called a ‘Snakerat’.”

“Snakerat?” Courfeyrac said in thought. “Let me just consult my database.” He raised his palm and a holographic image formed of a small spiny creature with sharp fangs. “They’re of the genus Morsus Foeda, they live in swamps and eat mainly toads, and they’re highly aggressive. Their teeth are venomous -”

“Slimy, aggressive and venomous, like the Witches,” Enjolras said in disgust. “But what’s in it for them?”

“The Witches want to provoke a huge panic and create a diversion to get their hands on your sceptre,” Cosette explained.

Éponine narrowed her eyes. “That’s so underhanded, sounds about right,” she muttered to herself, then louder, “We’ve got to stop those eggs from being handed out.”

“Too late,” Jehan groaned, pointing back into the dining room. Combeferre and Prince Marius were carrying the chest to the centre of the room.

“Surprise Eggs,” Éponine murmured.

“Yes, and the surprise is a very cuddly Snakerat,” Cosette groaned.

Enjolras took charge. “We have to perform a counterspell, fast! Quick, join hands and form a circle.” They did so, and Enjolras closed his eyes in concentration. “Repeat after me, quae quondam iterum fiat.”

“Quae quondam iterum fiat,” they chorused, focussing hard on the eggs. They felt a ripple pass over them, and opened their eyes. Prince Marius was handing out the white eggs, and they were changing colour for every Faery! The Amis breathed a sigh of relief, and listened to the chorus of “Wow!”s and “Aww, beautiful!”s.

A voice nearby made the Amis all turn. Dark-haired Prince Marius was offering Enjolras an egg, with a shy smile on his face. “I hope this egg brings you luck,” he said. His cheeks were flushed.

Enjolras blushed a little. “T-thanks,” he stammered, taking it. It glowed golden and suddenly its shell was black in the centre, fading to purple, then scarlet, then orange, then yellow and at the ends were little blue and white swirls.

Jehan smiled at Marius. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare one, would you?” they asked. Marius glanced around.

“I think so,” he replied. “We brought a spare in case any of them broke.”

“Could I borrow it?” Jehan requested, batting their ridiculously long eyelashes. Marius nodded with a smile and went to find the spare Surprise Egg. He returned and handed it to Jehan, who didn’t hold it, but rather made it levitate before dropping golden dust over it.

“What did you do to it?” Cosette asked. Jehan smirked.

“I left a nice little surprise of my own for those three Witches. Now hurry up and go change!”

Cosette smiled fondly and headed back to the apartment.

 

 

Outside, a great deal of the foliage surrounding Patron-Minette turned to ice and shattered. Babet could barely contain his fury. “I don’t believe this!” he snarled. “The spell didn’t work!”

“Calm down, Babet,” Gueulemer smirked. “So the spell didn’t work, big deal. Sooner or later that ring will be ours.”

 

 

Cosette entered the apartment and made to unzip her jeans. “Sorry, Wolter, no time to play,” she told the little Dutch rabbit, who was offering her his tummy in a ‘please stroke me!’ sort of way. Suddenly, a thud from the living space made her jump, and she darted out into the main room of the apartment. Enjolras’ bedroom door had burst open, and his jewellery box was floating towards the main door! Patron-Minette must have enchanted it! She chased it out of the apartment and down the stairs, and out into the courtyard. “Hey! Come back here!” she yelled at it. The box paid her no mind, and continued out the gates. Cosette pursued it around the side of the building. “Hey, where are you going?” she yelled at it.

 

 

In the foliage, Babet narrowed his eyes. “Someone’s coming this way,” he muttered, then squinted through the branches and saw the telltale glint of gold. “And so is the ring!”

As she reached the foliage, Cosette pounced and captured the little golden box. “Gotcha!” she said triumphantly.

Babet grit his teeth in annoyance, as did his cousins. “Unbelievable!” he hissed. “She’s walking away with the ring!” He grabbed Claquesous by the hair and Gueulemer by the collar, and yanked them out of the bushes. “Nosy little missy,” he snarled at Cosette. “Why can’t you mind your own business?”

Cosette turned on her heel, her face going pale with shock. Gueulemer didn’t waste any time this time. He blasted lightening directly at her head. Cosette jumped to avoid it, and it hit her exposed side. She fell to the ground, pain blooming up her side. Babet snatched the jewellery box off the ground. “Let’s go, dumbasses,” he muttered, and the Witches vanished in a cloud of black smoke. Cosette slowly got to her feet, groaning quietly, and headed back into the castle.

As she passed the wishing well in the centre of the courtyard, she met Jehan. “Cosette! Are you OK?” they asked worriedly. “You were gone so long, I got worried!”

Cosette nodded. “I ran into Patron-Minette and we had a little spat. I tried to stop them, but they got away with Enjolras’ ring!”

Jehan shook their head and smiled. “Nah, they didn’t,” they reassured her. Suddenly their eyes widened. “Jeez-oh, Sette, what did they do to you?”

“Nothing, I mean, I took a lightening bolt to the side, but…” Cosette glanced down at her side and gasped softly. There was a pale, oddly shaped mark on her waist. “Whoa,” she said softly. “Lichtenburg figures.”

“I have a poultice that can make them disappear -” Jehan started, but Cosette shook her head.

“Not right now. We have a party to go to!”

 

 

Jehan insisted on helping Cosette finish her dress. Turns out, they were a lowkey expert on dressmaking. “A little snip here…and tie here…” they murmured. “And…done!”

Cosette felt like Cinderella entering the party late. Jehan had lent her some shoes that perfectly matched her dress, which was now really more of a top and skirt with cool fingerless gloves that had dark blue thread woven around the wrists. They had made a kind of braided belt, and had added a matching choker. With her hair in an elegant high ponytail, Cosette felt like a fairy princess from one of her storybooks back on Earth. Flushing a little at the mix of envious and enamoured stares, she walked through the crowd until she found her friends.

“So, Jehan, you never did tell us what you did with the egg,” she smiled.

Jehan laughed. “Oh yeah! I just did a simple switcheroo. Enjolras has his ring back, and the egg’s in the jewellery box.”

Cosette giggled delightedly. “Man, I’d love to see Babet’s face when he opens the box and the egg turns black to match his heart,” she joked. Jehan smiled serenely.

“Well… it won’t go quite like that,” they said cryptically. “It’ll be funny though!”

 

 

In his room at Votirlu, Babet carefully prised open the jewellery box. To his surprise, a little white egg sat on the velvet lining. He picked it up, wondering if the ring was inside, then nearly dropped it in surprise when a deep crack appeared in it. “What the -!” he gasped, as the egg hatched. A little grey duckling sat in his palm, staring up at him. It snuggled into his hand.

“Mummy!” it quacked loudly.

“What?!” Babet yelled in shock. “‘Mummy’?”

The duckling hopped onto his shoulder and snuggled up to him. “Mummy!”

 

 

Cosette smiled as she watched her friends enjoy the gala. Someone tapped her shoulder, and she turned to Grantaire blushing the same colour as his hair. “W-would you like to dance?” he asked her, stuttering a little.

She smiled delightedly. “I’d love to!” Cosette grinned, and took the hand he offered her. Grantaire twirled her under his arm, and led her onto the dancefloor in an elegant waltz.

“You’re not going to run away this time, are you?” he teased.

“I promise,” Cosette laughed. “As late as I was to the party, I’m not actually Cinderella, so there’s no time limit on my shoes.”

Grantaire looked adorably confused. “Who’s Cinderella?” he asked.

Cosette laughed and shook her head. “Never mind.” She’d had quite enough excitement for one day, and was perfectly content to simply dance the rest of the night away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just what is it about Enjolras' sceptre that Patron-Minette is so interested in? Hint: it's a pretty big plot point.
> 
> Also I know that the whole Marius-Grantaire thing is confusing. All will become clear in time, dear readers!!!
> 
> Please comment if you liked it!! It gives me energy!!


	5. In Which Friendships Are Formed And Éponine Gets A Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An outdoor class exercise has most of the Faeries out of their depth. Meanwhile, the Wizards are arguing amongst each other, and Patron-Minette makes up for an earlier mistake...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm updating quickly, daaaaamn. Probably because I've just graduated high school and so have nothing to do atm except studying and writing. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

The castle that housed the Musain College for Faeries was surrounded on all sides by a forest of pine trees. It was home to all sorts of interesting magical creatures, but we’ll get to them later. About five minutes walk through the trees in front of the castle (and across the road that the bus to Magix City travelled along) there was a beautiful lake called Lake Roccaluce. Its banks stretched between the three schools of Magix, and there was a different type of bank for each school. At Musain’s bank, there was a beautiful sandy beach. At Corinthe, there was a dam with a walkway on top that made for a lovely viewing point. At Votirlu, however, there was a rather nasty, marshy forest known as the Black Mud Swamp. It was in this swamp that Professor Palladium, a tall, dorkish elf with a stutter, fresh out of teacher training, chose to hold his first field activity. The class was one on Potionology, and Palladium insisted that in order to work with potions, you had to first work with nature.

“So, as I was s-saying, today’s exercise will be f-far more hands-on than our p-previous classwork,” he was saying, when one of the students, a rather snobbish girl named Amaryl, interrupted him.

“Professor Palladium! A mosquito just bit me!”

“Y-yes, well,” Palladium stuttered. “It’s just a mosquito, and we __are__  in a swamp.”

“But look where it got me!” Amaryl complained. She rolled up her shorts to point at her mid-thigh. Palladium was looking more awkward by the minute.

“Y-yes, well, to p-put it - get straight to the p-p-point,” he stammered, “um…”

The class burst into giggles. Cosette’s heart went out to the man. “Poor professor,” she whispered to Enjolras. “They shouldn’t give him such a hard time!”

“I know,” Enjolras sighed. “If he was more confident he’d have it easier. Still, they should be more respectful to the guy who is literally teaching us survival skills.”

Palladium had finally gathered his thoughts. “A good Faery,” he said firmly, “should always listen to the voice of Nature. We cannot survive if we don’t listen to what Nature tells us.” Cosette noticed his stutter vanished whenever he was speaking about something he was passionate about. “Today’s exercise will put your survival skills to the test. You’ve all been put into groups of five, so you’re ready to begin. You have three hours to find your way out of the Black Mud Swamp and to the clearing in Roccaluce forest __without__  using magic. Remember to listen carefully to the voice of Nature, and follow its advice,” he instructed, before snapping his fingers and disappearing an a burst of golden sparks.

Left to their own devices, the Faeries split off into their groups. Les Amis were lucky enough to have been put together, and they gathered in a huddle to discuss the game plan. Jehan, knowing the most about nature, was voted leader, and they decided to head down seemingly the only path in the swamp. Unfortunately, the path was a dead end, cut off by a rather murky-looking outlet of Lake Roccaluce. Most people would have looked for another way around; Jehan decided to plunge right into it. They were up to their knees in muddy water, and beckoned their friends to follow with an altogether not-that-reassuring assurance of “Don’t worry, our boots are waterproof!”

Enjolras was the last into the water, and he groaned at the feeling of muddy water lapping at his thighs. “Ugh, this is minging! Why couldn’t we have found a way around, Jehan?”

Jehan shrugged, and Courfeyrac nodded in agreement. “I’d say this mud puddle is potentially problematic, but that’s putting it mildly,” he winced as a particularly slimy piece of bogweed brushed past his thigh. “It smells like sulphur.”

Éponine’s eyes widened. “Bog is definitely __not__  supposed to smell of sulphur! We need to get out of here!” An enormous bubble forming in the water in front of her, bigger than her head, seemed to prove her point. The Amis all dashed for the opposite bank, crouching behind a large rotting log. Cosette picked up a stick and swung it back.

“OK, let’s see,” she murmured, lobbing the stick directly towards the bubble. It burst, releasing bright yellow gas that smelled worse than a chain-smoker eating an off egg sandwich. Her eyes widened. “Damn. We were lucky, getting out of there when we did.”

“A whim is one thing, but that was a pretty big risk, Jehan,” Courfeyrac said crossly. “If we’d popped one of those while we were still in that bog, we would have all been toast.”

 

 

****Meanwhile, at Votirlu…** **

The coven known as Patron-Minette, made up of Babet, Claquesous and Gueulemer, stalked into the room shared by Gueulemer and Babet. Gueulemer’s frizzy purple hair was even more on-end than usual. “Ugh,” he groaned, flinging himself down on his bed. “I can’t stand Professor Zarathustra. She always forces me to make an effort.”

Claquesous meanwhile had stormed over to Gueulemer’s wardrobe and was thumping on the door. “Larbin! You useless smelly ogre! Come out now!” She swung open the door, revealing the group’s ogre lackey, and put her hand to her nose at the smell. “Ugh, why do you smell worse than usual?” she groaned.

The ogre shrugged. “Probably shouldn’t have eaten those beans. Sorry, Highness.”

“Never mind the beans,” Gueulemer scowled. “We’ve gotta find you a hiding place with better ventilation.”

“You’ve got to be more careful, Larbin,” Claquesous agreed. “Nobody can know that you’re here.”

“School regulations are clear when it comes to beasts, animals, or other pets,” Babet said. He glared at the little grey duckling that followed the ogre out of the wardrobe, quacking happily at the sight of Babet. Babet ignored it as best he could. “As I was saying, we’ve got to be more careful. We screwed up the back-to-school assignment, and we broke another rule today by making ourselves invisible to skip Viridium’s lecture.”

“But we’re Witches, aren’t we?” Gueulemer said in frustration. “We’re supposed to break rules.”

Babet rolled his eyes and turned to the ogre. “Now, what was so important that you had to call my mobile phone in the middle of the day?” he snapped.

“Sorry, Highness, but I had an urgent message,” the ogre groaned. “I was down in the tunnels near Corinthe College and I overheard them talking.”

“And?” Claquesous snapped. “Get to the point!”

“And I heard that the Wizards were bringing my hunting troll to Magix City today to be turned over to the police!” Larbin continued. “And then it will be sent to the Septumium Prison!”

“That hunting troll was useless anyway,” Babet shrugged. “It didn’t even manage to overpower two level one Faeries!”

Gueulemer had seen the problem quicker than Babet had. “Trolls are pretty stupid. They have no willpower to protect against mind-reading or manipulation spells. That troll will spill the beans on us quicker than you can blink, and we’ll be in serious trouble.”

Babet began pacing. “Alright. So we take advantage of the numbskulls flying the transportation ship and we get rid of the troll. __Forever.__ ”

 

 

As the Amis were squelching through the bog and Patron-Minette were making their plan, a scarlet airship from Corinthe College sped over Roccaluce forest. It had a flat bottom and a curved top, with a wide windshield made of thick glass. At the back was a prison cell with bars made of blue fire, and it was in this cell that the troll was being kept. It lurked at the back, occasionally grunting at the four Wizards running the ship.

The Wizards were, of course, Grantaire, Bahorel, Prince Marius and Combeferre. They had captured the troll, and Headmaster Lamarque had now tasked them with transporting it to Magix City to await trial. Grantaire, who was in charge of making sure the bars held strong, scrunched up his face when they neared the Black Mud Swamp. “Hey, Prince Marius?” he said tentatively to the Prince, who was controlling the ship’s speed. “Is it just me, or do you feel like something is about to happen?”

Marius glanced up. “Something fun or something really bad?”

“I dunno…” Grantaire murmured. “Just… __something__.”

“Relax, Grantaire, I have complete control of this aircraft,” Bahorel insisted. “I wasn’t named Captain of the pilot club at Corinthe for nothing.”

Suddenly the entire ship stalled in mid-air, throwing Combeferre out of his seat. Bahorel’s eyes widened. “What that hell, ship?” he yelped.

“What was that?” Grantaire shrieked. His chair was spinning around and he was starting to look a little seasick.

Marius, who had excellent reflexes, caught himself as he too was flung from his chair. “It came from outside,” he said, only panicking a little. “Something’s trying to attack the ship.”

“The hell?” Bahorel snapped. “The sensors aren’t picking up anything.”

There was a crackle of bright green magic, and suddenly the sensors were all flashing, spinning and beeping like mad. Bahorel tried to regain control of the ship, but to no avail, and for it a little while it became very hard to tell which way was really the North.

 

 

Down in the swamp, Cosette noticed the bright red ship spiralling towards the trees. “Look!” she cried, pointing up at it.

Enjolras’ eyes widened. “That’s a ship from Corinthe!” he yelled. “We have to go help them!”

The Amis dashed through the bog until they reached the crashed aircraft. The four Wizards were dismounting hurriedly, looking more than a little motion-sick, but generally unharmed.

“Are you guys OK?” Jehan asked.

Bahorel scowled. “Oh yeah, we’re having a total ball here. Nothing better than being unexpectedly blasted out of the sky.”

“None of us are hurt,” Grantaire assured them. He turned to check the collateral damage and groaned loudly. “Aah, crap.” There was an enormous smoking hole on the side of the ship, and several abnormally large footprints leading away from it into the tree-marsh. “The troll got loose!”

“A troll?!” Courfeyrac’s eyes widened. “You were transporting a __troll__  and you let it __escape__?!”

“Hey, we didn’t __let__  it escape!” Bahorel snapped. “There was an accident. We lost altitude and-”

“Must have been a mechanical failure,” Combeferre agreed.

Bahorel nodded. “Anyhow, there’s nothing to worry about. It’s handcuffed.”

Marius pulled a large pair of handcuffs out of the marsh. “Not anymore, it isn’t.”

Bahorel muttered a word unsuitable for polite conversation, and Grantaire laughed awkwardly and turned to the Faeries. “So, what are you guys doing out here?”

“We’re in the middle of a Potionology exercise,” Cosette began to explain, but Bahorel interrupted her.

“Then get back to your assignment and leave this to us, Twinkletoes. This is none of your business.”

“What Bahorel means,” Marius interrupted sharply, “is that maybe it would be best for you to just keep working while we try to recapture the troll.”

Bahorel glared at him. “I don’t need your editorial comments, your Highness.”

“And __we__  don’t need you telling us what to do!” Enjolras snapped. His cheeks were burning bright red in anger.

“Whatever,” Bahorel rolled his eyes. “Come on you guys. Let’s go.” He stumped back to the ship, and his fellow Wizards followed him, shrugging apologetically.

Enjolras turned back to the Amis. “What say you we capture that troll before they do?” he suggested, grinning wickedly.

Jehan shook their head. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. We should get back to the class exercise.”

“Seriously Jehan,” Enjolras said. “Cosette and I have tangled with that troll before. Marius and the others could be in serious trouble.

Jehan sighed. “OK, if you all agree, then I guess we could help them.”

“One thing’s for sure,” Courfeyrac spoke up. “Something strange is going on here. Have you seen the hole in the fuselage? It’s perfectly circular. The aircraft didn’t malfunction, it was hit by magic. Someone helped that troll escape.”

“In that case,” Jehan made their mind up, “we don’t have much choice, do we?”

Courfeyrac smiled, and went to join Combeferre, who was examining the ship’s engine. “The impact knocked out the stabiliser,” he surmised. “Would take a pretty powerful blast to break through the ship’s side, though.”

Meanwhile, Marius was showing the other Faeries the handcuffs. “It’s a psychic lock,” he explained. “You need to be able to use controlled non-verbal magic to unlock it.”

“The troll definitely had help then,” Éponine said. “Trolls have no magical power. They’re big dumb cavedwellers who live off the land.” Everyone looked at her in surprise that she knew so much about trolls, and she shrugged awkwardly. “My dad’s kind of a dark creature expert.”

Cosette was examining the troll’s footprints with narrowed eyes. “Have you guys seen these?” she asked. “Check out the depth.”

Enjolras bent down next to her. “Huh. Feet the size of ocean-liners, but the footprints are getting shallower and shallower.”

Jehan fit one of their own feet into one of the lightest footprints, right before the trail vanished entirely. Their foot sunk down into the muck. “This makes no sense. The ground is still soft here, the footprints should be consistently deep.”

“Either the troll was on some sort of ultrasonic weight-loss scheme, or the person who busted it out levitated it out of the swamp,” Éponine said.

Jehan grinned. “Back into the swamp, then?”

The Amis groaned and followed them into the bog, leaving the Wizards to fix their ship. “Let’s tread carefully, though,” Cosette warned. “We don’t know how much sulphur there is under this part of the bog, let alone what kind of animals.”

“This is one seriously creepy bog,” Éponine shuddered. “The silence is deafening.”

“The silence is a good thing though,” Cosette pointed out. “It will make it easier for us to find the troll.”

“We need to listen to the voice of Nature,” Jehan agreed, and Courfeyrac rolled his eyes.

“Not that again. I hear literally __nothing__.” The group paused in silence, before Courfeyrac huffed and blew his curly hair out of his face. “So, did Mother Nature give you any suggestions or player tips?” he said sarcastically.

Cosette smiled serenely and pointed to a hole in the undergrowth on the other side of the marsh. “How about trying over there?” she suggested. “It’s not a very big hole, but it’s a start. I just feel like it’s the right way.”

Jehan nodded in agreement. “I feel it too. It’s the right path.”

Cosette took the lead this time, wading through the murky water until she reached the undergrowth, and crawled through the hole. It led to a kind of tunnel, with thorny walls and a mossy floor.

 

 

The Wizards had been tracking the troll their own way, Combeferre listening to changes in the wind and Marius picking up vibrations in the water. Unfortunately, they weren’t as in tune with Nature as the Faeries were, and they wound up tangled up in some rather thorny vines. Bahorel tried to tear through them, and in return one smacked him hard around the head with a crack like a whip, recoiling as though preparing to hit him again. “Hey!” he yelled in shock. “These branches are alive!”

“That’s impossible, Rel,” Combeferre insisted. “No form of animal life could survive here.” A vine was curling around the leg of his glasses, attempting to pull them off, and he batted it away in irritation.

“And why not?” Marius yelped. The curly-haired prince was dangling upside down from a vine that had wrapped around his ankles.

“There’s nothing - hey, quit it! - for animals to eat here!” Combeferre insisted. He was swatting at the vine, which seemed determined to steal his glasses.

“What about carnivorous plants?” Grantaire pointed out, his voice muffled. The vines were wrapping tightly around his face.

“Good point,” Combeferre muttered, before shrieking, “HELP!” as vines began twisting around his chest like ropes.

 

 

As the Amis neared the part of the bog the Wizards were trapped in, Jehan put their fingers to their lips. “Sssshhhh,” they whispered. “I recognise these plants. They’re called Tacerecarne Vescuntur, and they hate noise.”

Unfortunately, Enjolras hadn’t heard the warning, and when he slipped over in the muck he shouted “FUCK!” extremely loudly.

The plants did __not__  appreciate this, and shot several thorny vines out, wrapping around his ankles and dangling him upside down. He shrieked in terror, and Cosette clamped her hand over his mouth. “Ssshhh, Enj. Don’t move,” she whispered. The plants, finding it to be suitably quiet once again, retracted their vines, dropping Enjolras back into the bog. He shuddered at the feeling of slimy plants moving over his skin, before getting to his feet and following his friends.

Suddenly, a loud shout of “HELP!” caught the Amis’ attention. It was followed by another voice, which said, “Stop yelling, Ferre, I can’t think straight!”

“Yeah, that’s always been a bit of a problem for you, right, Prince Marius?” someone else joked.

“Is now really the time to be making gay jokes?” the second voice snapped, and the Amis realised it was the Wizards they’d left by the ship.

Jehan led the Amis into the thicket, where they were bound by more Tacerecarne Vescuntur vines. “Hey guys,” Jehan whispered. “Need a little help?”

“No, we’re fine,” Bahorel said sarcastically. “Please just continue standing there whispering. Wouldn’t want to upset the digestive process of these plants.” The vines holding him tightened around his diaphragm, and he wheezed loudly.

“Keep your voice down, you dummy,” Éponine scolded him. She didn’t sound as mad as Cosette had been expecting, though. “They’re agitated by sound!”

Jehan was whispering to the plants. It didn’t sound entirely like English; in fact it didn’t sound like any language at all. They were making soft rustling noises at the plants, which obediently untrussed the Wizards and pulled their vines back down under the mud.

The four Wizards, who had been struggling to breath by this point, relievedly gulped in air. Jehan led the way back out of the swamp, the Wizards following this time, but Éponine grabbed Cosette’s wrist and pulled her back. “Cosette,” she whispered excitedly, “is it just me, or is Bahorel’s whole bad boy rebel thing __really__  hot?”

Cosette blinked in surprise. “Literally just you, Ponine,” she replied, raising her eyebrows. Éponine shrugged, and they followed the rest of the group back out of the thicket.

When they rejoined the group, Grantaire into step beside Cosette. “Hey!” he whispered happily.

“Hey!” Cosette smiled back. Enjolras nudged her.

“You can speak normally now, we’re away from the carnivorous plants,” he laughed, before addressing the whole group. “I think we should all team up and look for the troll together,” he suggested, and Jehan nodded in agreement.

“I’m cool with that if you guys are.”

Bahorel scowled. “I’m not teaming up with Faeries.”

“You’re on your own then, buddy,” Marius laughed. “And if you find the troll, just give us a shout.”

Bahorel’s scowl deepened, but he agreed to team up. They’d reached a part of the swamp where the water was deeper, but it had little mossy stepping stones across it. Marius was the first to jump onto one, followed by Combeferre. Unfortunately, Combeferre lost his footing and fell on his arse in the marsh. The Faeries burst out laughing, but Bahorel rolled his eyes. “Great. First we have to team up with the Faeries, and now we’ve got Clumsy Combeferre too.”

Marius was helping Combeferre to his feet, and Grantaire glared at Bahorel. “Jeez, Bahorel, would it kill you to be a little nicer?”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Grantaire,” Bahorel snapped. “You’re just Prince Marius’ yes-man. Why don’t you go polish his boots or something?”

“Seriously, man, stop being a dick,” Marius said.

“Or what?”

“Or you’re off the team,” Marius snapped. “Is that clear?”

Bahorel looked like he was about to argue, but suddenly he deflated. “Alright, let’s just go find that troll.”

Marius helped Combeferre find his footing, and the rest of the group each jumped onto their own stepping stone. Enjolras wobbled a little. “Is it just me, or are these clumps of turf moving?” he asked nervously.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Cosette added. She thought she could feel the turf moving with the flow of the water.

“You can all stop thinking,” Courfeyrac said worriedly, “because these clumps of turf are moving for real.” They all looked up, and realised that the bank was much further away than it had been a minute ago. Grantaire, who was the tallest, stood on his tiptoes to try and see further down the river. His eyes widened in worry.

“There’s a whirlpool at the bottom of this run. We’ve gotta get out of here, now!”

They all started leaping for the bank. Enjolras nearly lost his balance, but Marius caught him. They made eye contact, and a dark pink blush started creeping up Enjolras’ neck. “Hi, uh, Prince Marius.”

“Careful you don’t fall in the water,” Marius teased him. He leapt to the bank and offered Enjolras a hand. By this point nearly everyone was on the bank except Bahorel. He tried to make it in a single bound, but mistimed it and fell into the water. Courfeyrac dived for his hands.

“Hang on, Bahorel,” he shouted, pulling as best he could.

“Don’t let go of me!” Bahorel yelled. For the first time he looked a little scared. “I don’t wanna be whirlpool chow!”

Courfeyrac strained, but he lost his footing, and Combferre grabbed him by the ankles before he fell in. “Someone help me!” Combeferre yelled. “I can’t keep this up forever!”

Grantaire and Cosette each grabbed one of Combeferre’s legs, and together they pulled the three boys safely back to dry land. They collapsed onto the (thankfully solid) bank. Bahorel was the first to get up.

“Come on guys, we’ve got a troll to catch,” he said coldly. “We’ve lost too much time already.”

The group headed along what seemed to be a path, when a sudden, piercing shriek hit their ears. Bahorel grinned. “Looks like we’ve found him!” He and the other Wizards dashed towards the scream.

Cosette’s eyes widened. “That’s Amaryl!” She dashed after the Wizards. As much as she disliked her snobbish classmate, she didn’t want to see her eaten by a troll.

Amaryl and two of her friends were cornered against a rockface, and the troll was approaching them slowly. Marius nodded slightly and turned to the Faeries and Wizards. “OK, first we need someone to distract the troll. Then Grantaire and Combeferre will grab him, and Bahorel and I will slip the handcuffs onto him. That OK with y’all?” When no one complained, he nodded more firmly. “Alright, let’s do it!”

Cosette charged up to the troll. “Hey, you big bully!” she yelled. “Remember me?”

The troll beat its fists against its chest and roared at her. “Come get me, dumbass!” she yelled, and dashed for the bushes as the troll ran at her. Launching themselves at its ankles, Grantaire and Combeferre grabbed a leg each, tripping the troll over. Bahorel and Marius leapt for the hands, and Marius seemingly attempted to arm-wrestle it.

“What are you waiting for, Rel?” he bit out. “Cuff him!”

“Easier said than - ugh - done!” Bahorel groaned. The troll had grabbed his head, and in one deft movement, kicked itself free of Grantaire and Combeferre before flinging Marius and Bahorel back into the bushes. It beat its chest in rage and stormed off into the forest.

“Great, we lost him again,” Grantaire groaned. “This day has been a complete disaster.” Combeferre had somehow gotten tangled in the handcuffs in all the kerfuffle, and Grantaire helped him free.

Amaryl glared at the Wizards. “Nice job, idiots,” she snapped, before turning tail and leading her friends into the woods in the opposite direction of the troll. Marius scrambled free of the bushes and pulled a twig out of his ebony curls.

“That’s the thanks we get,” he laughed ruefully.

 

 

The troll had reached a part of the forest where the trees were too densely crowded to let in any sunlight. It bounded between trunks, smelling and feeling its way along. Suddenly it picked up a sort of perfumey smell that smelled familiar, and changed course to find it.

 

 

Grantaire was sitting on a log, running his fingers through his messy red hair. Cosette sat down next to him and smiled. “You know, even though you didn’t catch the troll, that was awfully brave of you back there,” she said softly.

Grantaire laughed awkwardly. “Nah, it wasn’t. It was pretty reckless.”

Cosette shook her head. “Yes it was! You saved those ungrateful Faeries from being eaten by the troll!”

Grantaire shrugged. “They weren’t far off the mark though. We’re not really Wizards, we’re a bunch of rookies. And tackling the troll like that was a rookie mistake. The only thing we do really well together is argue.”

Cosette sighed and glanced over at Bahorel, who was arguing fiercely with Marius again. “Don’t blame me, Prince Marius!” he snapped. “I’m not the one who handcuffed Ferre!”

“You had the handcuffs,” Marius pointed out.

“So it was all my fault? Because I’m not the one who came up with that stupid plan -”

“Alright, you guys, that’s enough!” Combeferre snapped. “If we want to catch the troll, we need to work as a team!”

Marius sighed and nodded. “You’re right, Ferre. We need to work together.” He turned and offered Bahorel a handshake. “Shall we try again? And put a raincheck on the argument?”

Bahorel took it with a smile. “I’m down with that.”

Combeferre looked relieved, but he suddenly made eye contact with Courfeyrac, and his cheeks turned the same shade of pink as Jehan’s turtleneck. Grantaire got up and went over to join his friends.

“Rel and I have called a truce,” Marius announced.

“I would have preferred everlasting peace, but I can live with that,” Grantaire laughed.

 

 

In the darkest, muddiest part of the swamp, Patron-Minette stood in wait. They’d been there for nearly an hour, and Gueulemer was starting to get frustrated. “I knew it,” he was growling. “I knew it.”

“Would you chill, Mer?” Babet snapped. “Everything is under control.”

“But what if it’s lost?” Claquesous pointed out. Babet shook his head.

“Impossible. When a troll picks up a scent, he never loses it. Spray more perfume, Claq.”

Claquesous obligingly spritzed more of her perfume onto herself, and they continued to wait.

They didn’t have to wait much longer. The troll, drawn to the scent of Claquesous’ perfume, had come straight to them. Babet grinned triumphantly. “Well, well. Look who’s here.”

Gueulemer grinned too. “We gave you freedom and you did as we asked, but now you must enter oblivion.”

“Goodbye, troll,” Babet hissed. “May our secret vanish with you.” He and his cousins formed a ring around the troll, and raised their hands. There was a brief flash of green light, and the troll was gone, never to be seen again.

Babet breathed out. “Mission accomplished. Let’s go back to Votirlu.” Another flash, and they’d been transported back to the dormitory in Votirlu castle. Their secret was safe for now.

 

 

Cosette led the group down the same path the troll had taken, only about half an hour later. She paused for a second, and Grantaire asked, “What do you hear now?”

Cosette shook her head. “It’s not a sound, it’s a feeling.”

“It’s like a sort of navigation system in your heart,” Jehan added.

“So you’re sure this is the right path?” Marius asked, and Courfeyrac smiled.

“Relax. I’ve learned that when it comes to the voice of Nature, Cosette and Jehan can’t be beat.”

Cosette led them through the swamp for another five minutes, before she stopped, her face scrunching up in confusion. “We’ve reached the end of the road.”

“But there’s no one here,” Marius pointed out.

“I don’t know what happened,” Cosette looked seriously confused. “The feeling’s gone.”

Enjolras meanwhile was squinting through the trees. “There’s some serious negative energy in this part of the swamp.”

“I feel it too,” Courfeyrac murmured. “I think someone cast a spell here… I think they made the troll disappear.”

Éponine nodded. “That would make sense. They helped it escape so that they could make it disappear.”

“But who would do something like that?” Grantaire asked.

Cosette closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She pursed her lips in thought. “Is it just me, or does this place smell kinda familiar?” she asked.

Jehan nodded. “Last time I smelled this was in the alleyway with Patron-Minette!”

“I could smell it when I fought them at the gala,” Cosette added. “But what does Patron-Minette have to do with this?”

 

 

It was dark by the time they made it back to the repaired ship. The Wizards were nice enough to drop the Amis off at the meeting point in Roccaluce Forest. As they climbed down the walkway to the ground, Éponine glanced over her shoulder at Bahorel, but Grantaire was the only one to call over to the group. “If it’s OK with you guys, we’ll say goodbye here,” he smiled. The Amis nodded and waved, and the walkway folded back up to the ship as it took off. The Faeries turned to their classmates and relieved looking professor.

Palladium smiled at them. “I w-watched you during t-today’s exercise, and even though you c-came in last, I’m really p-p-pleased with all of you! You’ve shown courage, generosity, and excellent decision making capabilities, so in the light of the outcome of this exercise, I would like to say that it was just a test run.”

Amaryl looked furious. “No fair!” she snapped. “We did all that for nothing?”

“I wouldn’t say nothing, Amaryl,” Palladium said firmly. “Some of you learned a lot today.” He smiled at the Amis, who all grinned back.

 

 

At Corinthe College, Marius, Grantaire, Bahorel and Combeferre watched as their ship was levitated into the mechanical bay to be properly fixed. Marius turned to his friends and sighed. “Today’s mission was a complete failure.”

“It’s true,” Combeferre agreed with a sigh. “We lost the troll.”

“But,” Marius continued, “it was a great experience anyway.”

Combeferre nodded. “You’re right, Prince Marius! For the first time today, I actually felt like I was part of a team.”

“I agree,” Grantaire smiled. “We became a real team today.”

“We did,” Marius smiled. “Although, I have one request. Could you guys please stop calling me ‘Prince’? It makes me feel old.”

All four boys burst out laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Éponine is pretty secretive about her family situation... and I know Bahorel is kind if a dick right now. That means there's room for *drumroll* Character Development!!!!!! Thanks for reading, please comment to let me know you liked it!!!!!


	6. In Which Punishment Becomes Fun-ishment, If Only Briefly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Amis finally get their punishment for breaking the rules on the first day, but find a way to make it tolerable - at least until Patron-Minette break into the school!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Javert is a good guy in this 'verse. He's just cranky.
> 
> And I have tried Courfeyrac's experiment with the mop and the picture frame. Don't do it, kids. It's a bad idea.

School life at Musain College for Faeries was super fast-paced, which was why Cosette was quite surprised to remember that she and the Amis had a punishment waiting for them. It was nearly two weeks after the incident in Magix City when Professor Javert called the five of them into his office.

When they entered, he was glaring at them short-sightedly and polishing his monocle. When they were all squirming with discomfort and anticipation, he finally screwed his monocle back into place and steepled his fingers on the desk in front of him, like a more dignified and intimidating Mr Burns. “It took me a while to find a suitable punishment for your infractions,” he began, “but eventually I decided on the simplest one: cleaning.”

“Cleaning?” Enjolras said. He looked disgusted.

“Yes, cleaning, Prince Enjolras,” Javert said. He was enjoying himself far too much. “While the rest of the school enjoys a picnic in the Bluebell Clearing in the Roccaluce Forest, you five will clean this whole school from top to bottom.”

“The whole school?!” Jehan gasped in dismay.

Javert smirked. “No, only the stairs, corridors, classrooms and bathrooms.” He clapped his hands twice, and five mops and buckets appeared. The buckets were full of soap, cloths and dusters. “You will find that you have no access to your powers,” Javert continued, “so these are your work-tools.” He smugly handed a mop to Enjolras, who looked thoroughly confused.

Courfeyrac looked confused too. “What a strange object,” he murmured. He pulled a PDA out of his shirt pocket and began typing a description of the mop into it, but Professor Javert snatched it off him and shut it.

“I almost forgot,” he grinned. “You can’t use technology either.” He locked the PDA in one of his desk drawers.”

Despite the fact that they were being punished, Éponine burst out laughing. “The look on your face, Courf!” she giggled. Courfeyrac was wearing an expression of wide-eyed surprise with his mouth wide open, and it __did__ look pretty funny. His mouth clamped shut when Éponine laughed at him, and he glared at her.

“It wasn’t that funny. You’re being irrational.”

Javert cleared his throat loudly. “Tomorrow I will be conducting an inspection. It better all be clean! Now go!”

 

 

Courfeyrac and Jehan had decided to start with the staircase up to the dormitories. Courfeyrac still looked unsure of how to use the mop, and Jehan offered to help him, but he shook his head.

“Nah, I’m sure I can figure out how to use these primitive instruments,” he insisted. He picked up the bucket and tipped the cleaning products onto the floor, narrowing his eyes as he examined the inside of the bucket.

“Are you sure?” Jehan chuckled. Coming from a planet where magic was regarded as something to only be used in special circumstances, they were well accustomed to using a mop and bucket to clean. Courfeyrac, however, came from a world of precision and technology, and it showed.

“Of course I’m sure!” he said, putting the bucket on his head and tucking the handle under his chin like a strap.

“Are you sure you’re sure you don’t want my help?” Jehan giggled.

“I can handle the situation, Jehan,” Courfeyrac said confidently. “Don’t worry.” He grabbed the mop, turned it so the brush part was pointing up to the ceiling, and began using it to dust a picture frame. “See?”

“Oh, yes,” Jehan sniggered. The picture frame, made to be dusted with something far less coarse, lost the fight with gravity and crashed to the ground. “I see.”

Courfeyrac blinked at the picture frame in surprise. “I think I may have fucked up,” he said uncertainly, and Jehan laughed out loud.

“Now will you let me help you?”

 

 

The Musain amphitheatre was a circular room looking down onto a central stage area with a long table in the middle. The walls were the same pink as the outside of the castle, and the seating banks were made up of blue plushy cushions. The floors were yellow, and the windows were arranged around the top of the room, and it was in here that Enjolras, Cosette and Éponine had chosen to begin cleaning - well, Cosette and Éponine were cleaning. Enjolras was perched on the central table, writing in a notebook.

Cosette was scrubbing at a particularly stubborn stain between two of the seats in the third row. “Ugh, I can’t wait to be done here,” she groaned.

Éponine scowled over at Enjolras from were she was dusting the spider-webs off a window. “We’d be done a lot sooner if Prince Privilege would help us.”

Cosette nodded in agreement. “We agreed that you would do the floors, Enjolras,” she said sternly.

Enjolras glanced up from his notebook. “No, you two agreed. I have an important essay to write! Do you want me to be behind on it?”

“Practising what you’re going to yell at people over the internet doesn’t count as an essay, Enjolras!” Éponine snapped. He opened his mouth again and she steamrollered over him. “And don’t you dare play the royalty card!”

“This is important!”

“Look,” Cosette interrupted before the fight could turn nasty. “Let’s just get to work and get this done.” She poured the cleaning liquid into the bucket of water and stirred it with the mop. When she looked up she realised Enjolras had gone back to his notepad, and on a whim she picked up the bucket and flung soapy water at him.

“Hey!” Enjolras yelped.

“I saw that notepad, Enj,” Cosette giggled. “You weren’t writing an essay. You were designing a revenge scheme to get back at Javert. We don’t need to get back at him, we broke the rules and it’s fair enough that we’re being punished.”

Éponine nearly cackled. “Good one, Sette!”

“Oh yeah?” Cosette raised an eyebrow at her. “I’ve got some for you too!” She swung the bucket back, and Éponine was drenched too. She hurried to grab her own bucket.

 

 

When Courfeyrac and Jehan entered, the room was no closer to being cleaned, but the floor was awfully slippery. Cosette, Enjolras and Éponine were all lying on the floor, all of them drenched in sudsy water. Jehan raised their eyebrows. “Whoa, what happened in here? A tornado?”

Enjolras slowly got to his feet. “Oh, we were just working some stuff out, right?” he giggled.

Cosette got up too. “Right!” she laughed.

Éponine gave them a thumbs up from where she was lying. Jehan looked seriously exasperated. “What a wreck,” they groaned.

Courfeyrac nodded. “We’ll never finish at this rate.”

Enjolras looked thoughtful. “Why not ask the boys at Corinthe for a little help?” he suggested.

Jehan snorted. “Oh, sure. Then when we get caught, we’ll be grounded for infinity.”

“Well, I think it’s a great idea,” Cosette grinned.

“But isn’t it, like, cheating?” Courfeyrac said worriedly, but Cosette shook her head.

“Nuh-uh. Professor Javert said no magic and no technology. He __didn’t__  say no flesh and blood.”

“Right!” Éponine agreed. “And when everything’s cleaned up, we can have a party!”

It was hard to argue with that logic, and the Amis hurriedly finished cleaning the amphitheatre and the classrooms before Enjolras called Prince Marius (whom he’d exchanged numbers with on the way back from Black Mud Swamp) and invited him and his friends to the party. The main hallway was still rather dusty by the time the boys arrived (on _hoverbikes!!!_ How cool was that?!). They looked on in confusion as the five Faeries continued mopping.

“I thought you said this was a party,” Bahorel said grumpily.

“It will be,” Cosette reassured them. She’d managed to find four extra mops in a storage cupboard. “Just as soon as we’ve finished cleaning. Here!” She threw the mops to each of the boys, who managed to catch them - except Bahorel, who made no attempt and instead glared contemptuously at it when it hit the floor.

Éponine cranked up the music, and the cleaning party got started. Her philosophy was that everything was better with music, even cleaning floors. It was quite an odd sort of party; mainly because Enjolras and Prince Marius had begun a heavy debate about first the Andros Division, with Marius claiming it was for the best while Enjolras was in disbelief that anyone could support the splitting of a nation, which then devolved into a heated discussion of the civil war in Eraklyon. Combeferre and Courfeyrac seemed to be having a pretend swordfight with the mop handles, and Cosette and Grantaire were blushing every time they made eye contact. Bahorel was still his normal grumpy self, and Éponine still found it oddly attractive. Meanwhile Wolter had come to join them, and was delightedly sitting on the end of Jehan’s mop while they pushed it gleefully around the room, grinning crazily.

Soon the room was clean, and the group headed up to the Amis’ apartment to have a real party. Music blared, and Bahorel passed around cans of something that smelt like cider but was far lighter on the mind and the stomach. Cosette and Courfeyrac were dancing together, and Cosette commented that the cleaning party had gone pretty well.

Courfeyrac agreed. “Everything is done, and I found out that Combeferre has scary-accurate knowledge of the Battle of Domino.” He grinned. “So, how’s it going with you and Grantaire?”

“Oh!” Cosette blushed. “Well, he’s, uh, really nice…”

“Mmhmm…” Courfeyrac giggled. “I see that blush. Well, according to social convention, a party is the perfect time to get to know someone! Get in there, girl!”

 

 

In the Musain Castle courtyard, violet light flashed briefly, and the three Witches of Patron-Minette appeared. Claquesous looked around and noticed the lights on in one of the apartments. “Hey,” she snapped at Babet. “Didn’t you say the school was empty?”

“Guess I was mistaken,” Babet frowned. “They’re all supposed to be at some dumb picnic in the woods.” He and his cousins all pushed off from the ground and took to the air without the help of wings; Witches used dark energy to fly. They hovered at the balcony of the apartment, peering in at the party. “Those ridiculous Faeries,” Babet rolled his eyes.

 

 

Inside, Enjolras and Prince Marius were continuing their discussion of magical politics, while Combeferre, Bahorel and Grantaire watched the other Faeries dancing. Combeferre groaned quietly. “I want to ask Courfeyrac to dance, but I look ridiculous when I dance,” he sighed. Bahorel snorted.

“Combeferre, you look ridiculous even when you’re not dancing.”

Grantaire nudged him sharply in the ribs. “Oh, stop it, Rel. I can see you checking out Éponine.”

“Who?” Bahorel said hurriedly. “The girl with dark hair? She’s alright, I guess.”

 

 

Outside, Babet snapped his fingers and he and his coven vanished, reappearing in the newly cleaned entrance hall. He turned to his cousins with a look of seriousness on his face. “Let’s conjure up the Vacuums,” he said.

Gueulemer’s eyes widened. “The Vacuums? Why? They’re made to store only the most powerful and mystical magical energies. Enjolras is in there, we can just get him alone and take his ring.”

Babet shook his head. “I’m starting to wonder if it’s maybe not contained in the ring of Solaria,” he confessed. “When we were at Musain on the night of the gala, I could feel it close by, even though the ring wasn’t actually in the jewellery box. I think it’s hidden somewhere else in this school.”

It was a fair enough point, and each Witch pressed their hands together as though in prayer, forcing a little bottle to appear in front of each of them with a whispered cry of “Vacuums!” The bottles could feel each others’ presence, and merged together into a single beacon of light. It hesitated for a moment, before leading the Witches up the staircase and along a corridor. They followed, confident that the Vacuums would lead them to what they so desperately coveted.

When they got to the top of the staircase, Gueulemer paused. “Wait!” he cried. “Just in case those Faeries come looking…” He sent a bolt of lightening at the floor, and where it struck a cloud of smoke appeared, morphing into something huge, something that roared.

 

 

Marius was cracking open a can of the fruity drink when the roar shook the room and he nearly spilled it on himself. Cosette laughed a little. “Is Enjolras making you nervous?” she teased, ignoring Enjolras’ flushed cheeks and ‘zip it’ motions. “His bark is worse than his bite, I promise.” A thud that made the entire room shake quickly put that theory to bed.

Enjolras dashed over to the open balcony door. “It came from outside.Maybe someone left their TV on?”

With a loud crash, a plush velvet sofa flew through the balcony doors of a room across from theirs and landed on the lawn. Enjolras shuddered. “Maybe not.”

Bahorel gave a sharp whistle, and the four hoverbikes leapt into the air from where they’d been parked, hovering next to the balcony in readiness. He, Marius, Grantaire and Combeferre all hopped onto their respective bikes, and flew over to the room, taking a short-cut to the smashed door. The Faeries took a little longer to get there, having to go by foot, but when they arrived the Wizards were examining the destroyed room. There was an enormous hole in the wall where something had crashed through.

“What kind of creature could do this?” Combferre murmured.

Courfeyrac was examining a large gash in the wall. He plucked a piece of dark fur out of it. “A big and heavy creature.”

“Oh golly, thanks so much for that,” Bahorel said sarcastically. “I never would have guessed.”

Courfeyrac scowled. “It’s a little over eight feet tall and weighs close to a ton. Its fur is bristly, it has long horns and multiple clawed limbs. It also has a musky odour. Detailed enough for you?” There was another thud, this time close by, and he was nearly knocked off his feet.

Grantaire narrowed his eyes. “That must have been it.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Marius said impatiently. “Let’s go!” He raised his hand, and Cosette watched in amazement as water droplets appeared in the air, finally forming a broadsword.

Grantaire raised his hand, and flames appeared in his palm, forming a sword. Bahorel was holding a sword too, although she’d missed how he’d formed it, and Combeferre had drawn a handgun. They started down the corridor, and Enjolras followed them. “We’re coming too!” he insisted.

Bahorel shook his head. “You have no powers right now, remember? You’re currently useless in a fight. Stay where it’s safe, little Faery.” He and the other Wizards vanished down the dark corridor.

“Was he serious?!” Éponine blinked in shock a little. She shook her head and beckoned to the Amis to follow her. “Come on, we can cut it off from the other side.”

They ran down a different corridor, unaware that Patron-Minette was unknowingly following them. Their Vacuums had latched onto a magical trail of some sort, and they were curious as to where it would lead them.

 

 

The Wizards had entered one of the downstairs classrooms, and Grantaire held up a handful of flames, lighting up the room and illuminating a hole in the ceiling. “It went up that way,” Marius murmured.

 

 

Meanwhile the Faeries were in the upstairs corridor, with Éponine leading the way. The power had gone out at some point, and she couldn’t really see where she was going, but suddenly she walked into what seemed to be a wall. A very smelly, somewhat sticky wall.

She backed away, gagging. “Ugh. I just hit something really _funky_ , I think we missed a spot.”

The wall moved, and in the dim light from the window they realised it wasn’t a wall at all, but the monster: a gigantic four-armed Minotaur. It opened its mouth, revealing sharp fangs, and roared loudly, spraying spit everywhere.

Enjolras looked furious and ready to confront the monster, but Cosette reminded him, “Enj! We have no powers!” and he hurriedly backed away from the Minotaur. The Amis dashed away down the corridor with the Minotaur in hot pursuit, and although neither group knew it, Patron-Minette still following them. The Minotaur paid no mind to the scratches it was making in the walls, and suddenly it pounced, nearly spearing Cosette with its horns, and she scrambled away in a hurry. The dust from the plaster walls made things even more confusing, and the Minotaur nearly caught Courfeyrac, but missed and instead got its horns stuck in the wall. Jehan approached it crossly.

“You are one nasty critter,” they informed it. “Maybe this will freshen you up.” They pulled a bottle of perfume out of the pocket of their embroidered jeans, and spritzed the Minotaur with Rosey Bliss. It did not look very impressed.

“Jehan, get away from that thing!” Courfeyrac yelled. “I think you made it even angrier!”

“Maybe a different scent…?” Jehan suggested, but changed their mind when the Minotaur managed to yank one of its horns free. “Nope, you’re right. Relocating now.” They darted back to join the Amis.

“Out of the way, Faeries!” Bahorel yelled from the other side of the monster. “This might get messy!” He started running towards the Minotaur.

“Bahorel, wait!” Grantaire yelled. “Let’s take him down as a group!”

“Why?” Bahorel grinned. “I’ve got this covered -”

The Minotaur punched him in the face, sending him crashing through a stained-glass window into another room.

 

 

As Bahorel lay on the ground, semi-conscious, Patron-Minette followed their glowing light into the room he’d been knocked into. Seeing Bahorel, Babet raised his eyebrow. “Well, what do we have here?” he commented.

Claquesous knelt down next to Bahorel. “Interesting…” she said. She sounded fascinated. “This guy has a very strong negative force… he’s on a level with _us_. And he’s cute too. What do you think?”

Gueulemer rolled his eyes. “I’m not impressed. And you’re wasting time!”

Babet tilted his head to one side. “I think he could be useful, but not yet. Let’s keep moving for now.”

 

 

Watching the Wizards battle the Minotaur, Jehan spoke up.”We’ve got to do something! The Minotaur’s beating them to a pulp!”

“But we don’t have anything to fight with,” Courfeyrac pointed out.

A noise behind them made them turn. Enjolras had dashed off and returned carrying the five buckets and mops - complete with cleaning liquid. He grinned at Courfeyrac. “There’s always something to fight with!” he insisted. “All we need is a plan.”

Cosette grinned too. “And I think I might have one!”

As the three remaining Wizards were thrown against the wall, the Minotaur turned at the sound of the loud clanging. The Amis were whacking the mops against the buckets, creating a huge din. “Hey, monster!” Éponine yelled. “We’re over here!”

The Minotaur charged, and the Amis dashed off down the hall, sending the mops and buckets flying. Jehan grinned at Cosette. “You ready?”

“Let’s do it!” Cosette pulled the bottle of cleaning liquid out of her belt and squirted the soap onto the floor, as did the other Faeries. The monster slipped over in the goop, and went crashing through the wall into the entrance hall, falling down the two-story drop and landing with a thud.

The Amis and the Wizards (including Bahorel, who had regained consciousness) dashed down the stairs to examine it. They began speculating on what it was doing in the school, but Cosette had a more pressing question: “Where did it come from, and are there more of them?”

Enjolras examined the monster. “I’d say this is a special gift from Patron-Minette-R-Us.”

“I think we should go to Headmaster Myriel’s office and use his crystal ball,” Cosette suggested. “Maybe we’ll be able to see what’s actually happening in Musain.”

Jehan looked worried. “We can’t go into Headmaster Myriel’s office when he isn’t in there!”

“It’s strictly against the rules,” Courfeyrac agreed.

“Yes, but right now we’re the only ones who can do anything to protect our school!” Cosette pointed out. Her friends thought it over, and ultimately agreed that it was the lesser of two evils.

As they entered the enormous office overlooking the courtyard, Bahorel paused and narrowed his eyes. “We’re not alone in the building,” he said. “I can sense it.”

“What if it’s another monster?!” Jehan gasped. “What do we do?”

“Everyone hide,” Cosette whispered.

 

 

Patron-Minette entered Myriel’s office, following their glowing light. Babet narrowed his eyes. “That’s strange. The Vacuums indicate that the greatest power in the dimension is in this room, but I don’t see anything. I guess we’ll just have to tear the place apart until we find what we’re looking for.”

“I don’t think so!” Cosette snapped, jumping onto the desk. The three Witches nearly fell out of the air in shock, and suddenly the lights snapped on.

Bahorel grinned from next to the light-switch. “Hello!” The other Faeries and Wizards exited their various hiding places and surrounded the three Witches.

“What are you doing here?” Babet snapped.

“No, what are you doing here?” Cosette replied, equally as angry.

“Just what I was going to ask all of you,” came a voice from the doorway, and everyone turned to see Headmaster Myriel enter the room. “Up until now, I was under the impression that this was _my_ office.”

Cosette’s cheeks coloured. “I know it looks bad, but we can explain!”

 

 

Luckily, Headmaster Myriel accepted their explanation with no quandaries, made the Minotaur vanish in a puff of smoke, and simply insisted that the Faeries see off their guests politely. Cosette grinned awkwardly at Grantaire as he put on his helmet. “Sorry the party got derailed, Grantaire.”

The redhead laughed. “Actually, I had a really nice time.”

Enjolras was saying enthusiastically to Prince Marius, “But you can’t seriously think that the division is healthy -” when suddenly the curly-haired boy cut him off by pressing a kiss to his cheek. Enjolras’ cheeks were redder than his candy-apple-red crop-top.

Combeferre straightened his glasses, smiling awkwardly at Courfeyrac. “So, uh, memorable evening?”

Courfeyrac laughed. “Definitely.”

Jehan meanwhile was waiting with bated breath to see what Bahorel would say to Éponine, especially after they’d been checking each other out all night. They were disappointed, however, when the magenta-haired boy shrugged and said, “Next time you Faeries have a party? Don’t invite me.”

“Fine!” Éponine snapped, but Jehan didn’t miss the flush creeping up her neck.

As the boys drove off back to Corinthe academy, Headmaster Myriel turned to Patron-Minette, who all looked thoroughly embarrassed. “As for you three, I must inform you that your behaviour this evening has been totally unacceptable in every way. I will be writing to Headmaster Thénardier tonight, and he will no doubt punish you as he sees fit. Now, back to school all of you!” He snapped his fingers, and Patron-Minette vanished in a burst of golden light.

Javert, who had been waiting silently by Myriel’s side, turned to glare at the Amis. “And now to deal with all of you!”

 

 

The Amis headed straight up to Headmaster Myriel’s office. They were all incredibly nervous, but to their relief when they got there he was smiling. “Now, I’ve looked at the situation as a whole, and so I will not reprimand you,” he informed them. “This evening’s events have shown that you can handle difficult situations intelligently, creatively and without magic, so I will give you back your powers. You have acquitted yourselves admirably.” He snapped his fingers, and Cosette, Enjolras, Courfeyrac, Jehan and Éponine each felt a warmth enter their chests. They hadn’t noticed it before, but they all felt more complete now, and it was a relief. And by his smile, Cosette reckoned Myriel could sense their relief too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it seems there are some crushes forming @_@ will it work it? Will it be slow burn (yes)? Muhaha
> 
> Enjolras definitely wears crop-tops outwith his Faery form. He's also probably wearing shorts and stripy socks. He's not here for sticking to the gender binary.
> 
> And just what is it that Patron-Minette want so badly? What has become their new target? Well I'm posting the next chapter today since it's a lot shorter than normal, so you may find out the answer...


	7. In Which Cosette Is A BAMF Who Loves Wolter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette has an odd dream, and Professor Fauchelevent tasks the class with improving a simulated world. Patron-Minette, meanwhile, have an experiment of their own to conduct...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a lot shorter than previous chapters, so I'm posting it now. Also something pretty big happens towards the end...

_Cosette paced through the dark corridors of an unfamiliar building, not really feeling the floor beneath her bare feet. She’d never been here before but she knew where she was going - she was following a voice, the voice that was somehow familiar yet unknown at the same time; a high, sweet, female voice._

_“Sweetheart… here! This way!”_

_She turned the corner into a room filled with light, and there, in the centre, was the source of the voice: a beautiful young woman wearing long pink robes. She had dark brown hair that swirled around her face, and a kind smile on her mouth._

_“Darling! It’s me… don’t you remember me?” the woman was asking. “Don’t you remember?…”_

“Remember… what do I have to remember?!”

“Um, maybe that today is our first time using the simulator?”

Cosette blinked sleepily and opened her eyes. Jehan, dressed like always in a blouse and floor-length skirt ensemble that clashed magnificently, was smiling at her from the end of her bed. Cosette smiled back - but then their words sank in. “Oh shit! I’m late!” She hopped out of bed and dashed to the bathroom, re-emerging five minutes later fully dressed and with a toothbrush sticking out of her mouth. “Whe’e ith my bagpag?” she groaned through a mouthful of toothpaste.

Wolter, who had been roused by Cosette’s panic, hopped over to her backpack and sniffed it. Realising that this was the bag his mistress was looking for, he hopped inside to show her where it was at the same moment Jehan pointed the bag out to Cosette.

Cosette didn’t notice that the little Dutch rabbit had hopped into her bag, swung it onto her shoulder, dashed into the bathroom to spit out her toothpaste and rinse her toothbrush, and followed Jehan out of the apartment.

 

**Meanwhile, at Votirlu…**

Babet stretched, feeling his back click satisfyingly. “Claquesous, Gueulemer!” he yelled across the room, to where his cousins were sitting at a desk (or rather, Claquesous was sitting at it and Gueulemer was sitting on top of it). “Get ready, we’re going out.” Claquesous groaned, but obliged. Gueulemer glared suspiciously at Babet. “Why?”

Babet smirked. “Apparently it’s simulator day at Musain. Claquesous was snooping -”

“I was __not__  ‘snooping’,” Claquesous snapped. “Ladies don’t snoop.”

“Shut up, Claquesous, you’re no lady,” Gueulemer rolled his eyes. “Babet?”

“Right. She was snooping, and she found a letter from Azelma’s sister, who goes to Musain. Apparently today her sister’s class is using the simulator - and they’re only allowed to go in one at a time in this class. Cosette - the annoying blonde girl - is in that class, and it will be the perfect time to check if it’s her we’re looking for, and if it is…” He trailed off, but Claquesous and Gueulemer both smirked. They knew exactly what he meant.

“Let’s go, boys.” Claquesous clicked her fingers, and the three of them vanished, transported through the shadows to the Musain’s simulator.

 

 

Jehan and Cosette entered the simulator, barely catching their breath. They were the last ones there. Professor Fauchelevent - an older teacher with bushy white hair and a love of gardening - smiled at them as they hurriedly apologised, and began the lesson.

"Today's class is about improving an environment. You will go into the simulator one at a time, and try to improve an environment of your choosing. You can use anything you want to improve it, provided you either have it with you or can use magic to make it. Who wants to go first?"

No hands went up. All the Faeries seemed at a loss of what to do.

"You always like to go first, Éponine," Courfeyrac suggested.

Éponine glared at him. "Not this time."

"No volunteers?" Fauchelevent sighed. "I'll pick a volunteer then." He scanned the class, his eyes eventually settling on someone standing near the back. "Cosette? How about you?"

"Oh," Cosette squeaked. "OK."

"What kind of environment would you like?"

"Well..." Cosette stuttered, "I was thinking of, um, a d-desolate environment, m-maybe? Yeah, desolate. The most desolate possible," she finished with more determination.

"Desolate it is," Fauchelevent nodded. "Hmmm... there's one here... it's called 'Domino'." He loaded the world and turned to face Cosette. "Do you have everything?"

"Can I take my backpack?"

"Of course. Anything you need."

Cosette walked slowly to the door into the simulator. Her friends called words of encouragement as she went:

"You'll do great!"

"Good luck!"

"Go for it, girl!"

"Don't mess up!"

Enjolras raised an eyebrow at Courfeyrac. "'Don't mess up'? What kind of advice is that?"

"The most logical kind. Duh."

Cosette shut the door of the simulator behind her. The room itself was built like a giant metal hamster ball, with a single window through which she could see her classmates waving to her, and a long platform from the door into the exact centre of the room. She walked along it and positioned herself with her feet planted firmly in the foot markers at the end.

"Opening file: Domino," Fauchelevent's voice echoed through the room. The platform vanished, the room glowed brightly, and Cosette found herself standing in a rocky, barren desert. She couldn't see the walls or the door or the window. She might have well been on an entirely different planet.

Cosette carefully put her backpack on the ground, knelt down, and tested the quality of the soil. It was rocky but not completely dry, and it seemed like it would support plant life pretty well. She opened her backpack and jumped in shock when Wolter skipped out of it. "Wolter?! What were you doing in there?"

Wolter squeaked and hopped in a circle. Cosette laughed. "Fair enough, but stay close. We don't know this world. You be a good bunny now." She pulled out the little bag of seeds she'd been looking for, and dug a hole in the soil for them, carefully placing them enough distance apart for them to be healthy. Cosette covered the seeds in soil and cupped her hands over the little mound, focussing all of her energy on the plants. "Come on, little ones. Sprout." Her hands glowed golden, and a little green plant tendril pushed its way up through the soil. "Yes!"

“Cute,” someone behind her said sarcastically. Cosette spun to her feet, her jaw dropping in shock. The three members of Patron-Minette smirked back at her.

 

 

“What the fuck?” Enjolras said loudly.

Professor Fauchelevent looked extremely worried and confused. “They shouldn’t have been able to get in there,” he murmured. He began pressing buttons in the hope that he could reset the chamber, but suddenly he yelped and leapt away from the console.

“It’s broken!” Indeed, the console was crackling with a combination of electricity and magic, making it virtually impossible to touch. Fauchelevent frowned worriedly. “I’m afraid Cosette is on her own.”

 

 

“Hey there, Freshman Faery!” Babet laughed.

“What are you doing here?” Cosette snarled.

Claquesous smiled daintily. “Oh, we just thought we’d drop by and give you a little… _encouragement_.” She snapped her fingers, and Cosette was blasted off her feet. “Good luck!”

“Break a leg!” Gueulemer added, raising his hands into the air. With a flash of lightening, the ground split apart, creating an enormous canyon that was slowly filling with fire. “Break ‘em both!”

Cosette scrambled away from the edge and onto her feet. “I’ve really had it with you _baiseurs_!” she growled.

Babet grinned and turned around. “Aww, look what I found!” he cooed. “A bunny!” With dramatic flair he whipped his cape back like a curtain, revealing poor Wolter, struggling to hold onto the edge of the canyon.

Cosette’s eyes widened. “Wolter! NO!”

Babet bared his teeth delightedly. “But rabbits are vermin. Let’s get rid of it!” With that he blasted the ground with ice. Unable to get a grip, poor Wolter tumbled backwards -

And Cosette leapt after him with a shriek.

 

 

Everyone in the control room, including the professor, screamed in horror. Enjolras was yanking fruitlessly at the door handle, determined to save his friend.

 

 

Babet laughed until there were tears in his eyes. “Guess she really loves that rabbit -”

An explosion from the fiery centre of the canyon cut him off; rocks and lava exploded outwards with the force of a nuclear bomb. And in the centre of it, dressed in a blue top and skirt with matching boots and a golden tiara in her hair, was a _very angry_  Cosette. Tiny white wings poked out of her shoulder blades, and blasts of fire twirled around her arm-warmer-clad arms, twisting and spitting sparks, and with a bang they shot towards the three Witches, who hurriedly vanished themselves back to Votirlu mere milliseconds before it hit them.

 

 

As they reappeared in their dorm room, all three Witches burst into near hysterical laughter.

“Yes!” Babet grinned. “Yes, yes, yes! It is Cosette! _She’s the one we’ve been looking for!_ ”

 

 

The simulated Domino had returned to its previous, pre-Patron-Minette state, and Cosette lay unconscious next to the healed crack in the ground. She was wearing her own clothes again, and her indigo eyes slowly blinked open. She sat up and looked around. “Wolter?” she called. Her eyes filled with worry and fear, until she heard the telltale snork of a snoring bunny. She unsteadily got to her feet and peered over the nearest rock formation.

There was her little angel! He’d flopped over in the way bunnies are prone to do when they’re tired or comfortable, and he was snoring peacefully. Cosette stroked his fluffy little tummy, and his big brown eyes opened. Wolter sat up and hopped into her lap, giving her hand little kisses. Cosette held him tight, nearly crying with relief.

 

 

“I must get her out of there immediately,” Fauchelevent muttered. He raised his hands and said, “Stultus Tincidunt!” loudly and firmly. Green light bathed the control panel, restoring it, and he pressed the ‘end simulation’ button with relief. The world of Domino vanished, and Cosette was now sitting on the metal walkway. Enjolras shoved the door open, and the entire class charged in. Wolter skipped a little way off to avoid the rush, and Enjolras pulled Cosette to her feet.

“Cosette! You transformed!” he beamed. Cosette’s face was practically glowing with happiness.

Her classmates surrounded her, lifting her onto their shoulders with a cheer. No one could be happier than Cosette though, who beamed down at Enjolras. “I know! I’m a Faery, Enj! I’m a proper Faery!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cosette did it! She transformed into a Faery!!!! Ain't nobody coming between her and Wolter. Also if you've never heard a bunny snoring, I advise you do. It's the cutest thing!!
> 
> Just what does Patron-Minette want with Cosette? I'm not giving anything away just yet 3;)


	8. In Which Cosette Schools Bahorel And Claquesous Is A Sneaky Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patron-Minette is given another chance by Headmaster Thénardier, and we learn a little about Éponine's family life. Meanwhile, Enjolras and Cosette are invited to a festival by Prince Marius, Grantaire and Bahorel - who has some rage issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not condone the way Bahorel treats Cosette in this chapter. Nor do I condone dumping water over someone's head without their consent.

_“Sweetheart!”_

_“Who are you?” Cosette asked the woman in pink._

_“It’s me, Darling girl! Don’t you remember me? Don’t you know my voice?”_

_“I…” Cosette whispered. “I think so, but where from?”_

_“Come to me,” the woman whispered. “Come to me, and remember…”_

Cosette blinked awake. It was the third dream of the woman she’d had, and she was no closer to remembering who she was than she had been the first time. She sat up in bed, and to her surprise saw Jehan buttoning an orange faux-fur coat over their dark blue skirt and green top. They looked up and smiled at her. “You were talking in your sleep again. What is it that you have to remember?” they asked her.

Cosette shrugged. “I dunno. It was a pretty weird dream. What’s with the coat?”

Jehan grinned. “Today’s the Day of the Rose! It’s a pretty big holiday in the Magic Dimension. I’m going into town to meet my mum, I’m taking her to lunch!”

“That sounds lovely!” Cosette smiled. She pushed back the covers and dug through her chest of drawers for some clothes.

 

 

Courfeyrac was waiting in the main room, wearing a denim jacket and a shiny scarf. He smiled at Cosette and Jehan when they entered the room. “Are you going to see your mother today, Cosette?”

Cosette shook her head. “Don’t have one. Why?”

Courfeyrac looked surprised for a second, but he quickly recovered and explained. “The Day of the Rose is a day to celebrate your mother. There’s a parade in town, and you’re supposed to treat her to something nice, like a lunch at a fancy restaurant or a new dress. Don’t you have a holiday like that on Earth?”

Cosette nodded. “Yes, except where I live it’s called la fête des mères. So you’re all going out to see your mothers?”

“We’re not,” Enjolras said, gesturing to himself and Éponine, who were sitting on the sofa. “My mum is too busy to have time for that kind of thing. I don’t see an awful lot of her.” He sounded rather sad, like he did every time he mentioned his parents’ divorce.

“What about you, Éponine?” Cosette asked.

“I don’t really talk to my mother much any more,” Éponine said. She sounded a little uncomfortable. “I have my own plans today, though. You and Enj can keep each other company.”

Enjolras nodded. “Prince Marius invited us to join him and some of his friends at the parade. I, for one, am looking forward to correcting his political views again.”

Éponine huffed a laugh. “That’s what passes for foreplay apparently, these days,” she chuckled, ignoring Enjolras’ bright red cheeks and insistence that his relationship with Marius was entirely platonic.

 

 

**In Headmaster Thénardier’s office at Votirlu…**

“You are nothing but bungling fools!” Thénardier yelled at the three Witches standing on the other side of his desk. “First you fail to ruin the party, and now this!” He yanked a letter out of a desk drawer. It had been sealed with the crest of Musain (yellow wax with a pair of elaborate wings carved on the side). “This is a letter of protest from my esteemed colleague, Myriel. He did not appreciate the three of you breaking into his school, not once, but twice! And now he is asking me to take disciplinary action against you!” He tore the letter in half, his yellow eyes flashing with fury. “I am furious! Not for what you’ve done, but for what you have _not_  done! I should kick you out of this school!” He paced around the desk to glare more fiercely at the three, who were, of course, Patron-Minette. To their surprise, he looked a lot calmer. “But I won’t. I’ll give you another chance. I sense a lot of dark potential within all of you, and I believe you could become truly awesome Witches. However, you will have to prove yourselves. There is a growing alliance between the Faeries of Musain and the Wizards of Corinthe. There is a friendship between the schools, and _I don’t like it._ This could be the beginning of a union that would change the balance of power, and _we cannot let that happen!_ That’s where you three come in. I want you to destroy this alliance.”

Gueulemer grinned; he loved nothing more than destruction. “When do we begin?”

“Right now!” Headmaster Thénardier said. He paced back around his desk and tapped the crystal ball that sat next to a pile of papers. “In town today there is that insufferable Day of the Rose parade. Some of the Faeries will be there, and so will the Wizards from Corinthe.” The ball showed a smoky image of Marius, Grantaire and Bahorel passing a stall selling bunches of bright roses. He snapped his fingers, and the image vanished. “Do whatever you want; at the end of the day all that matters is that the kinship between Wizards and Faeries is spoiled forever!” Three identical smirks appeared on the faces of the Witches. Headmaster Thénardier turned and paced over to the enormous red window that made up the back wall of his office. “Now go and get to work!”

 

 

After her friends had left, Éponine quickly rifled through her suitcase for the dress she saved for special occasions like this. It fell to her knees and was red with a pattern made of golden thread, with long sleeves and a blue obi-style belt. Carefully knotting her hair around the blue-lacquered chopsticks Courfeyrac had saved when her suitcase burst open, she pushed her feet back into her combat boots, grabbed an odd pink ornament shaped like a closed flower, and made to leave the apartment. On a whim, she grabbed a pale pink rose from the display on the table. Éponine made her way to the top of the castle’s tower, which had a sort of covered-over balcony part under the turret roof, and gazed out at the view of Lake Roccaluce. After a near minute of silent viewing, she took out the ornament and placed it on the ledge, hopping up to sit cross-legged next to it. She pressed a button on one of the petals, and the ornament opened to reveal a tiny hologram of a woman.

She was quite a pretty woman, with dirty blonde curls and dark slanted eyes, and a curvaceous body. She was wearing a dress the same colour as Éponine’s, only longer and without the combat boots. She blinked silently up at Éponine, who smiled softly at her.

“Hey, mum,” she said quietly. “Guess it’s that time of year again. I got you a rose.” She placed the rose in front of the hologram, and her mother blinked at it. That was how she responded to everything. Éponine continued, “There’s a parade on in town and everything; I was invited but I said no. I would have seen Bahorel again if I’d gone, but oh well. Bahorel’s a guy I’ve met. He’s a strange fella, but he’s really attractive, and I’d really like to get to know him better. Who knows. Another day, perhaps. I love you, mum.” Éponine carefully closed the petals, and the hologram vanished. She looked out over the lake again, and in spite of her smile, a tiny pearly tear streaked down her cheek from her visible eye.

 

 

At that moment, Bahorel, along with Prince Marius and Grantaire, was pushing through a crowd in the middle of the main street of Magix City. When they reached a lull in the crowd, Marius pushed his black curls out of his face and huffed out a breath. “ _Pffft._ There’s a lot of people in town today.”

“Too many for my taste,” Bahorel added with a scowl. “What are they all doing in town anyway?”

Grantaire laughed. “What you should be doing: relaxing and enjoying themselves,” he teased.

Marius was waving to Enjolras and Cosette, who were across the street, but at that moment an airship passing overhead began dropping roses into the crowd. Marius grinned and caught one, offering it to Enjolras when they were close enough. “A rose for you, sir,” he smiled, blushing a little.

Enjolras, blushing even more than Marius, took the rose, and Cosette grinned as all thoughts of correcting Marius’ political opinions apparently vanished out of the blond boy’s head. She made eye contact with Grantaire and grinned at him. Bahorel cleared his throat loudly. “Can we get going now, _please?_ ”

The group made their way over to the next street, which had been cordoned off for hoverbike races. The first race was in progress when they arrived, and they squeezed their way over to the barrier to cheer on the cyclists. Grantaire grinned as the winner crossed the finish line. “We’ve all entered the contest,” he announced to Cosette and Enjolras. “We’ll be racing later today.”

“Yeah,” Bahorel grinned, “but I’ll be the one crossing the finish line first.”

Marius shrugged. “Maybe. It could go either way. It might not even be one of us who wins.”

Enjolras tapped Marius’ shoulder worriedly. “Isn’t it a bit dangerous?”

“Nah,” Marius smiled. “It’s fun!”

“Besides, the crowd is shielded from any potential crashes by a magical barrier,” Grantaire added. “It’s totally safe!”

“Seriously, Marius,” Enjolras said sternly. “I still have a bunch of your opinions to correct, so drive safely, OK?”

“I’ll try,” Marius blushed.

Just out of sight of the Amis, Patron-Minette appeared with their normal flash of violet light. Neither the Faeries nor the Wizards noticed them, and the three Witches followed the group silently.

“I’ll be cheering for you, Grantaire,” Cosette smiled at the redhead, who grinned shyly back at her.

“What about you, Rel?” Marius asked Bahorel. “Who’s cheering for you today?”

“I don’t need a cheerleader, dude!” Bahorel snapped. “Unlike you.”

“Relax, Bahorel!” Grantaire raised his hands.

“Believe me, if I actually wanted one of these Musain pixies, I could have my pick of the whole litter and both of you know it!”

Enjolras and Cosette both looked disgusted.

Grantaire snorted. “This is dumb.”

“In fact,” Bahorel continued, ignoring him, “a certain someone has been giving me the eye today. Isn’t that right, Cosette?” He smirked at her.

Cosette’s eyes widened, and she gagged a little. “ _What?_  The only ‘I’ I’d give you is ‘I don’t think so’!”

Bahorel’s smirk remained in place. “ _Right._ ” He winked at her.

“What is up with you today?” Cosette demanded. “I think I know who I like, and trust me, I _don’t_ go for arrogant jerks. I still can’t figure out why Éponine has a crush on you!” The angrier she got, the more heated her words became. “You’re a totally conceited, totally cocky, totally _boring_ waste of good oxygen!”

Enjolras’ eyes widened. Marius bit his lip worriedly. Grantaire winced.

“I’m sorry, but guys like you give guys a bad name, Bahorel!” she finished, folding her arms.

Bahorel flipped his hair out of his eyes. “You are _really_  cute when you’re angry, you know that?” He tilted her chin up as though he was about to kiss her, but his eyes were on Grantaire, whose fists had clenched and whose freckles were vanishing into the angry red flush creeping up his neck. “I dig girls who play… _hard to get. _”__

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” Cosette snapped. She pushed him away and raised one hand. “You know what? I think you just need to cool off, Bahorel!” A burst of golden sparkles sprung from her fingertips and levitated a large plant pot over Bahorel’s head. It tipped, and water splashed all over him.

Marius burst out laughing. “Ahahahahaha! You look like you wet your pants, dude!”

Cosette raised one eyebrow. “Still think I’m cute when I’m angry?”

Bahorel’s face turned the same bright magenta as his hair. “You’re gonna regret that, Cosette!” he snarled.

Cosette looked shocked, and backed away. “But…we were just kidding, weren’t we? Bahorel, I thought-”

“Fuck _OFF! _”__ Bahorel yelled.

Grantaire put a placating hand on his shoulder. “Come on, Baz -”

“Hands _off_ , Grantaire!” Bahorel snapped. “I’m getting out of here!” He turned on his heel and stormed off into the crowd.

Cosette put her face in her hands. “ _Shit._ ”

“Please, Cosette,” Enjolras shook his head. “He had it coming.”

 

 

As he stalked away down the street, Bahorel muttered angrily to himself. “Stupid, stupid, stupid girls. Who needs them? I sure don’t. I don’t need anybody.” He leaned his forehead against the cool glass of a shop window, wondering briefly if maybe he’d gone too far, but he dismissed the thought as quickly as it had appeared. He didn’t need _anyone_.

 

 

Babet, Claquesous and Gueulemer had decided to follow Bahorel, and they were watching him from the awning of a building across the street. Babet hummed, pleased. “Did you guys see his argument with his little friends?”

“This guy’s got power, and muscles too!” Claquesous grinned. Gueulemer smirked at her.

“Do you have a _crush_ on him, Claq?”

Claquesous pointed a perfectly manicured claw at his nose. “You watch your mouth, Mer, or I will break your fucking jaw!” she snarled. Babet glared at both of them.

“Shut up, argue later! We’re here on business, remember? And this little argument with his Faery friends has given me an idea. We know that ‘Bahorel’ or whatever he’s called always wants to be the best. He’s brash, moody, and hates losing, and we have the power to make him win.”

“It shouldn’t be too difficult to get him on our side,” Claquesous agreed.

“Keep it in your pants, for fucks’ sake, Claq!” Gueulemer laughed.

Ignoring his bickering cousins, Babet stalked into the alleyway that led around the back of the building. “Larbin!” he snapped. The ogre obediently appeared with a cloud of smoke, which Babet angrily waved away.

“Yes, your scariness?” Larbin asked. “What can I do for you?”

“Stand still,” Babet instructed. “Don’t move, and let me concentrate.”

The ogre groaned, realising he was about to be transformed into something or other, and obediently stood as Babet had asked him. Babet snapped his fingers, and in a flash of blue light, Larbin was transformed to look like Combeferre. Another flash, and he was wearing round glasses. Combeferre-Larbin blinked delightedly. “I can see!” he said in Combeferre’s voice. It really was quite disturbing.

“And now, listen carefully,” Babet grinned.

 

 

Cosette, Enjolras, Grantaire and Prince Marius had continued through the festival. They were watching a man juggling hoops of sunlight, when Grantaire bounced on his toes excitedly and pointed at another stall. “Look!” he said. “A fire-eater!” Prince Marius stood on his tiptoes to see, but Enjolras and Cosette were both far too short to see over anyone’s heads (Enjolras being 5’3” and Cosette not much taller at 5’4”), and Enjolras pulled Cosette through the crowd to get closer. Unfortunately, someone knocked into her, and he lost his grip on her hand. Cosette was bumped through the crowd like a pinball until she came to a halt in the audience of a dancer. The dancer’s moves were flowing and beautiful, and Cosette watched with rapt attention.

After a while she had to blink, but when her eyes opened again her jaw dropped. The dancer now looked like the woman from her dreams, with long brown hair and pink robes. She blinked again and the dancer once again had blonde curls and dark skin, looking nothing like the woman. She shook her head to clear it. It was bad enough that she was sleep-talking and disturbing Jehan, but now the dreams had started seeping into reality!

“Cosette!” a familiar voice nudged her out of her trance, and she turned to see Combeferre smiling at her.

“Ferre!” she grinned. “It’s so nice to see you! I didn’t know you were here.”

“How come you’re on your own?” Combeferre asked. “Everyone’s been looking for you.”

Cosette shrugged. “I lost Enj in the crowd a little while ago. At least, I don’t _think_  it was that long ago.” How long had she been watching the dancer for?

“Let’s go to the square,” Combeferre suggested. “They’re probably waiting there.”

“Sure,” Cosette smiled, taking the arm he offered her. “The race is probably about to start.”

As they walked down the street together, Combeferre looked at her concernedly. “The guys told me you had a little disagreement with… Barrel?”

“Who?”

“Bahorel,” Combeferre corrected himself. “Sorry. Slip of the tongue.”

“I’m sorry too,” Cosette sighed. “I probably shouldn’t have lashed out like that. He was being a dick, but tipping water on him might have been a bit far.”

“Well, if you wanna sort things out with him, I know how,” Ferre smiled.

“Really?” Cosette asked relievedly.

“I have an early, uh, birthday present I made him, but you can give him it instead!” Combeferre pulled a sleek black glasses case out of his pocket and offered it to her. “Y’know, as a peace offering.”

“That would be great,” Cosette smiled. “Uh, what is it though?”

Combeferre made to open the case, but seemed to be having some trouble. He awkwardly yanked it open and removed a sleek black headset, like the kind for playing video games, only it came with goggles too. He then proceeded to put the headset on himself, fumbling about with it. He was acting like he couldn’t control his fingers properly.

Cosette quirked an eyebrow at him. “Are you OK, Ferre?”

“Oh, me?” Combeferre asked. “I’m super-duper!”

 

 

From where he was watching from behind a building, Babet facepalmed and groaned.

 

 

“It’s a helmet,” Combeferre explained. “A special nomby - mumby - _omni_ -drive helmet.” He pressed a button on one of the earpieces, and the sleek black helmet unfolded around his head. “It allows the rider to drive the hoverbike telepathically.” He pressed the button again, and the helmet folded back into the headset. “It’s every rider’s dream.” He put it back in the case and handed it to her.

Cosette took the case with an awed expression. She shook her head. “You must have worked really hard on this, Ferre. _You_ should give it to him.”

Combeferre shook his head with a smile. “Your friendship is more important. You give it to him, tell him you got it in a little gadget shop.”

Cosette smiled back. “Thank you so much, Ferre! This is so generous of you!”

Combeferre smiled back. “One last thing. Don’t tell anyone I made it, OK?” He turned and darted away into the crowd, turning back to wave at her before she lost sight of him.

“Oh - OK,” Cosette murmured, a little surprised. She turned and headed back to where she’d last seen Enjolras.

 

 

In the alleyway, Combeferre knelt in front of Patron-Minette. Claquesous looked down at him through her thick dark lashes. “Well? Did she take the helmet?”

Combeferre nodded. “Yes, Highness.”

Babet snapped his fingers, and Combeferre was turned back into Larbin the ogre. Gueulemer wrinkled his nose. “I liked him better as the nerd.”

“Can I keep the glasses?” Larbin asked.

Babet rolled his eyes and nodded. In a flash, the round glasses were back on the ogre’s face. In a second flash, all four of them were gone.

They reappeared on top of a building overlooking the race. Babet grinned. “OK, Mer, Claq, get ready. Larbin and I have a perfect view up here.”

“Bahorel’s new helmet will steal the show for sure,” Gueulemer chuckled. He snapped his fingers, and suddenly he was wearing the same uniform as the other racers. Another snap, and he had a bright green helmet tucked under his arm.

“He’ll have an accident, and the blame will fall on Cosette,” Babet gloated.

“Not too big an accident though, right?” Claquesous checked. She twirled, and her Witch clothes were replaced with a purple tube top and black leather shorts and boots. Gueulemer smirked at her.

“Since when do you care about other people?”

“I _don’t_.”

“Oh, but you do, Claquesous,” the violet-haired Witch grinned. “You like that guy, don’t you?”

“He’s cute, that’s all,” Claquesous snapped. Babet sighed and put an arm around her.

“Claquesous, darling, I hate to say it, but you’re turning all schmaltzy on us.” He and Gueulemer burst out laughing, and Claquesous glared at them, her cheeks colouring.

 

 

At the race’s starting line, the commentators’ panel lit up and the man inside grabbed the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen and all other genders!” he began. “Welcome to the annual Race of the Rose! The fifth race of the day is about to start, so please welcome our champions!”

Grantaire and Marius wheeled their hoverbikes into the ring, Enjolras keeping pace with them on the other side of the barrier. Marius groaned. “Come on, hurry! We’re running late!”

“And we haven’t found Cosette yet,” Grantaire added, but suddenly a familiar voice next to Enjolras made all of them turn around.

“There you are!” Cosette smiled.

Enjolras hugged her worriedly. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking all over for you!”

“And I was looking for you,” Cosette said. “I’m perfectly fine, where’s Bahorel?” She noticed him on the track, about to put on his helmet, and shouted over to him. “Bahorel!”

Bahorel glanced up and glared at her. Cosette hopped over the barrier and walked over to him. “What do you want?” he snapped. “You better not waste my time.”

Cosette offered him the case. “I jut wanted to give you this. It’s a present to say sorry for pouring water on you earlier.”

Bahorel took the case and opened it. His eyes widened at the sight of the headset, and he hurriedly put it on. “Thanks,” he muttered. “It’s fine, or whatever. Sorry I was so pushy.”

“Good luck in the race,” Cosette smiled, and headed back to the crowd. She stopped next to Grantaire and smiled at him. “Drive safe, OK?” she grinned.

“See you at the finish line, Sette,” Grantaire smiled, putting on his own helmet. Cosette blushed and scrambled back over the barrier to join Enjolras.

“All racers to the starting line!” the commentator announced. Enjolras squeezed Cosette’s hand.

“What did you give Bahorel?” he asked curiously.

Cosette smiled. “I’ll explain later.” Forgetting Combeferre’s request, she added, “It was a present from Combeferre.”

“Combeferre?”

“Yeah, he gave it to me a few minutes ago.”

“Are you _sure_  you’re feeling alright?” Enjolras asked. “Combeferre took his mother to a restaurant on the other side of Magix City. He’s nowhere near the parade.”

Cosette frowned. “What? Who was I talking to then?” She glanced around, and her eye was caught by a flash of blue up on the roof of  _Xeron. Babet!_ “Oh shit,” she whispered.

The light signals flashed, and the first bulb lit up. The race was about to begin! Cosette pushed her way through the crowd towards _Xeron,_  Enjolras following her worriedly. “Cosette! What’s going on?”

“It was a trick, Enjolras!” Cosette gasped. “Babet is here!” She pointed up at the blue-clad Witch as the second bulb lit up. Enjolras recognised him as the hoverbike engines revved and the third bulb lit up.

“It must have been a member of Patron-Minette pretending to be Combeferre!” Cosette explained. “They’re up to something!” Enjolras’ eyes widened with worry, but they were too late - the bulbs had turned green. The race had begun.

“What could they possibly have to gain from messing with the race?” Enjolras asked.

“I don’t know, but I need to stop Bahorel,” Cosette said urgently. “Cover for me!”

“Cover for you?” Enjolras asked. “What are you doing -”

Cosette twirled elegantly. “Transform!” she whispered, focussing hard, and in a flash, she had become the blue Faery again. It felt as natural as putting on a pair of gloves. Her body felt warm all over, and she beat her little white wings, fluttering into the air.

 

 

Gueulemer removed a hand from his bike, and sent a blast of cursed lightening at a rider ahead of him. The rider lost control of his hoverbike, and careened into the guy next to him. Gueulemer grinned and sped past them.

A streak of blue flashed over the race. It was, of course, Cosette, hurrying to reach Bahorel before it was too late.

“What a spectacular race this is turning out to be!” the commentator said excitedly. “We even have an unusual last-minute competitor flying above the track!”

Grantaire glanced into his mirror. “Cosette?” he muttered in surprise. “What is she doing?” At that moment, Gueulemer hit his bike with another blast of lightening, but Grantaire was a skilled enough rider to make it around a bend before carefully pulling to a halt.

Cosette glanced over her shoulder as she passed him. “Grantaire!” she muttered in worry, but continued after Bahorel, who had taken the lead.

The second place biker tailed him closely, gritting his teeth in annoyance at the sight of Cosette. The Faery had flown lower, and was almost within touching distance of Bahorel.

“What are you trying to do, Cosette?” Bahorel yelled over his shoulder at the blonde Faery. He revved the engine up, and sped ahead and away from her.

In the crowd, Claquesous snapped her fingers and muttered, “Now!”

The helmet suddenly crackled with dark magic. Bahorel yelled and grabbed it, trying to get it off his head. He was clearly in quite a lot of pain. “Bahorel!” Cosette yelled. She tried to get close enough to help him, but his bike, without him steering it, was careening all over the track, and she swerved to avoid it.

The bike stalled, and Bahorel went flying over the handlebars, hitting the magical barrier and sliding slowly to the ground. The second place rider pulled ahead, crossing the finish line first. The race had been won.

Cosette made to fly over and help Bahorel, but someone else had got there first. A brunette girl wearing a tube top and shorts had climbed over the barrier, holding her hands to his chest. They were glowing with what was apparently healing magic.

Grantaire dashed over to Cosette. “What happened?” he asked urgently.

“I dunno,” Cosette said worriedly. “He lost control of his bike.”

Bahorel’s eyes slowly opened, and he gazed up at the brunette girl, who smiled softly down at him. “You saved me,” he whispered.

She offered him a hand up, and he took it, scrambling to his feet. “I’m alright,” he insisted.

“Thanks to my healing powers,” the girl said. “My name’s Claquesous.”

Gueulemer, who had won the race, rolled his eyes at Claquesous’ back. “Disgusting,” he muttered, before shaking hands with the commentator and accepting the trophy.

Cosette marched over to Claquesous. “Get away from him, you Witch!” she yelled. Grantaire hurriedly followed her and pulled her away, but Cosette dug her heels into the ground.

“Calm down,” Claquesous snapped. “I was helping him.”

“I don’t know how they did it,” Cosette explained to Grantaire, as well as Enjolras and Marius, who had gathered around them, “but it was her and her friends who caused the accident!”

“You’re lying!” Bahorel yelled. “I don’t know how you did it, but I saw you behind me. You made my helmet malfunction, because you were mad at me for earlier! I admit, I was out of line, but you went too far!” He yanked off the headset and threw it at her face. “Here’s your stupid present!”

The headset hit Cosette hard in the nose. Ignoring the trickle of blood coming out of her nostril, she continued her explanation regardless. “I swear it wasn’t me! It was her, she sent a Combeferre lookalike to give me the helmet! It was a trick to make sure her friend won!”

Bahorel glared at her. “Combeferre won’t be back until this evening. Come up with a better excuse, Cosette.”

“I swear I’m telling the truth!” Cosette nearly sobbed. “Why don’t you guys believe me?!”

“There’s got to be a reasonable explanation,” Grantaire said fairly, but Bahorel turned on him too.

“So you’re saying you believe her over me?” he snapped. “Is that the way it is, Grantaire?”

Marius stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Bahorel, we’re only trying to understand.”

“I’ve had it!” Bahorel yelled. “I’ve had it with all of you! Tonight, I’m going to ask Headmaster Lamarque to put me in a new dorm.” He turned and made to walk away, but Claquesous tottered after him (she wasn’t used to wearing heels that high).

“Bahorel, wait!” she called. “I’m coming with you!”

“Let’s go then,” Bahorel muttered. He offered her an arm, and she took it, grinning smugly back at Cosette as the two of them left the track and vanished into the crowd.

Tears of frustration welled up in Cosette’s eyes, and she dabbed at her nose with her palm. “I swear it was another trick by Patron-Minette,” she said desperately.

Grantaire put an arm around her. “We’re beginning to think so too, but we can’t prove it.”

“We’ve lost this round with them, Sette,” Enjolras said gloomily. He snapped his fingers and a cotton ball appeared in his hand, which he offered her. She carefully positioned it so that it would stop the worst of the bleeding. “Come on, let’s get the bus home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As has been previously stated, I'm setting up Bahorel for Character Development, which is why he's such a dick right now. I'm also going off Hugo's description of him as a dandy - dandies were pretty much the 19th century equivalent of fuckboys.


	9. In Which Bahorel Broke Éponine's Heart, So She Broke Babet's Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette decides to research her dreams, and the Amis deal with the fall-out of the disastrous Day of the Rose race. Meanwhile Claquesous has some big plans for Bahorel...

It was the middle of the night after the disastrous Day of the Rose parade, and lightening flashed over the roof of Musain castle, followed by the crash of thunder and a steady onslaught of pouring rain. Cosette was fast asleep in her bed, tossing and turning, although not from the loud weather. She was once again dreaming of the woman in pink, who had lodged herself firmly in Cosette’s head. The difference this time was that instead of being in her pyjamas in the dream, she was in her Faery form.

_“Where are we?” she asked the woman._

_“Somewhere just outside the Magic Dimension,” the woman replied. “We don’t have much time.” Her voice had an odd, echoing quality to it._

_“Time for what?” Cosette asked. “Who are you? What’s your name?”_

_“Fantine,” the woman replied. “Listen carefully, sweet girl. I’m waiting for you. You must come to me!”_

_Cosette reached for Fantine’s hand, but it was just out of reach. She stretched as far as she could, but Fantine was fading from view! “Wait!” Cosette yelled. “Come back!”_

 

 

Jehan knocked on the door of Enjolras and Courfeyrac’s shared room. Enjolras came to the door, blinking sleepily. “Hang on,” he murmured, rubbing his eyes. He sniffed the air. “Jehan. I’d recognise that perfume anywhere. What was so important that you had to wake me at -” he glanced at the clock in the living space “- nearly 3AM?”

“It’s Cosette,” Jehan replied in a whisper.

“Wrong room, buddy,” Enjolras mumbled. “She’s your roommate, not mine.”

Jehan grabbed Enjolras’ shoulders and lightly shook him awake. “She’s doing it again, Enj!”

“Doing what?”

Jehan grabbed Enjolras’ hand and pulled him into the room they shared with Cosette. Cosette was still twisting and turning, her face screwed up, and she was muttering abstract words and phrases. “See? She’s talking to someone in her sleep.”

“That’s not so unusual,” Enjolras pointed out. “She’s probably just having a nightmare.”

Cosette turned, kicking the covers off, and Jehan pointed to what they were worried about. To Enjolras’ amazement, Cosette’s clothes were flickering between her blue and yellow pyjamas and her Faery form. “No, I’m coming with you!” Cosette wailed in her sleep. “Wait for me!”

“OK, that’s not normal,” Enjolras murmured. “It looks like she’s transforming in her sleep.”

“Should we wake the others?” Jehan asked. “Maybe Courfeyrac will know something about this. Or Éponine?”

“Jehan -” Enjolras started.

“Or maybe we should tell Professor Javert?” Jehan continued. “Or maybe not, uh, let’s go and see the school nurse!”

“Jehan!” Enjolras said again.

“Or maybe we shouldn’t do anything at all, maybe it’s like sleepwalking and you just have to guide them back to bed -”

“JEHAN!” Enjolras yelled. “Calm down! Or else you’re going to wake her up -”

“Enj? Jehan?” Cosette murmured sleepily. She opened her eyes, blinking at them. Now that she was awake, she’d stopped switching between forms. “For crying out loud, what are you doing up?”

 

 

Courfeyrac asked Cosette to explain the dream she’d been having as they walked through the courtyard the next day. Cosette said that it wasn’t a nightmare, though. “It wasn’t exactly a dream either, though,” she said vaguely. “I dunno…”

“Try to give me more details,” Courfeyrac insisted.

“It’s hard to explain,” Cosette shrugged. “It was a lot more  _vivid_  than a dream.”

Courfeyrac rummaged in his satchel and pulled out a little red compact. He pressed a button, and it opened, allowing a little robotic ladybug to fly out of it. “This dreambug I made will scan the physiochemical resonance of your cognitive projections,” he explained, then when Éponine gave him a confused look, he added, “It’s a dream-analyser.”

“It’s always the same dream,” Cosette explained as the bug fluttered around her head. “I meet this woman, and we’re in this building; I don’t know where though. She’s got long brown hair, and she wears pink robes, and her face is beautiful, but it’s also kind of familiar. She used to tell me to remember …  _something,_ but last night she told me to come find her.”

Courfeyrac checked the little screen on his compact. “Psycho-plasmatic evanescence level 26,” he murmured in awe. “It’s more than a dream. It has the same resonance as somni-communication. Looks like that woman, whoever she is, is trying to send you a message through your dreams.” The dreambug landed back in the compact, and he shut it and pressed a button on the side. The device projected an image of a pale face surrounded by dark hair. “Is this her?”

Cosette nodded. “That’s her. That’s Fantine.”

“Fantine?” Enjolras spun around to face her.

“Yeah, that’s what she told me her name was,” Cosette explained. “Now that I think about it, I think I’ve seen her somewhere else. Like, besides as a ‘cognitive projection’. I think - yeah! It was while I was shopping for my dress for the gala. I think I saw her likeness carved into the façade of a building in town.”

“Fantine was one of the Nine Nymphs of Magix,” Enjolras explained. “Everyone here’s heard of her.”

Courfeyrac nodded. “Fantine disappeared about fifteen years ago, towards the end of the War of Domino. If the building had her face carved on the façade, it’s probably relatively new - about 20 or so years old. You should look her up in the library.”

 

 

After class that day, Cosette headed straight to the Musain library. It was a long, high ceilinged room with hundreds of shelves and millions of books. Passing the golden gates that led to the restricted section - through which she could see a few Senior Faeries browsing the shelves - she headed for the library’s unique reference search system. It was a golden reading platform shaped like a butterfly’s wings, and you simply touched it and told it what or who you wanted to look up. Then it would find a book with the relevant information, and open it to the page you needed.

Cosette carefully placed a hand on the platform and cleared her throat. “Fantine!” she told the platform clearly.

A dictionary flew off a high-up shelf and landed on the platform, flipping open to the correct page. Cosette sighed frustratedly. “No, I don’t want to know what it means,” she muttered. “Let’s try again. Uh, Fantine the Nymph!” she told the platform. The dictionary zoomed back up to its shelf, and an encyclopaedia flew down and took its place. “OK,” Cosette grinned. “Here we go! _Fantine, one of the nine Nymphs of Magix… last Queen of Domino _.__  Domino?” Cosette remembered the strange world she’d chosen in the simulator. Courfeyrac had also mentioned a war on Domino…

She placed her hand on the platform again, and said, “Fantine and the War of Domino!” The encyclopaedia zoomed back up to the shelf, nearly colliding with about twenty books zooming down to her! The books whirled around her, and the library was apparently unable to decide which was the most relevant. Cosette held her arms over her face to protect from the sharp corners of the heavy books, unsure of how to stop the knowledge hurricane she’d accidentally started. She peeked out, and was shocked to see the golden gates into the restricted section straining and warping, as though they wanted to burst open!

Suddenly a firm voice said, “Prohibere libri!” With a flash of golden light, the books fell to the floor, and the golden gates went still. Cosette looked up to see Headmaster Myriel gazing at the books with raised eyebrows. “I’d say the library’s research system needs a complete overhaul,” he chuckled.

Cosette got up and, on impulse, hugged the teacher in thanks. “Thank you so much, sir! I don’t know what went wrong, the books just went haywire!”

Myriel patted her back with a smile. “It’s OK, Cosette. Go back to your dorm; you can do your research another time.”

Cosette smiled gratefully and left the library. Myriel glanced down at a book that had landed open and face-up. His eyes widened in shock, and he turned to the librarian, who had come to see what all the commotion was about. “Miss Zephine,” he said sharply. “I need you to remove all the books about Queen Fantine from the library. Without using magic.”

Zephine looked shocked for a second, but she nodded. “Of course, sir.”

 

 

Meanwhile, the Amis were in the living space of their dorm, and Enjolras was explaining Cosette’s theory about the fixed race to Courfeyrac, Jehan and Éponine. “Cosette reckons it was one of the Witches in disguise who gave her the helmet. I’m inclined to agree with her, especially considering that one of them just happened to be standing next to where Bahorel crashed.”

Éponine, who hadn’t really been listening, suddenly looked up. “Bahorel crashed?” she said urgently. “Is he OK?”

“He’s fine,” Enjolras rolled his eyes. “The Witch - the girl, Claquesous - healed him pretty much instantly.”

“Then Cosette’s theory makes even more sense,” Courfeyrac frowned. “Healing magic is difficult to master unless it’s one of your main powers. To heal him as quickly as you said she did, she’d have to know exactly what the curse was and how to fix it.”

“So Bahorel’s OK?” Éponine asked.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up about him,” Enjolras sighed. “You should have seen the way he was drooling over Claquesous when they left. It was __disg__ _ _usting__.”

“Oh,” Éponine said quietly. “Right.” She stood abruptly. “I have to, uh, go. Somewhere. Right now. Alone.” She practically sprinted out of the apartment, leaving her friends with shocked expressions.

She nearly ran into Cosette as she was leaving. “Hey, Éponine!” Cosette said cheerfully, but Éponine ignored her. She dashed across the courtyard and through the gates. A bus to Magix City had conveniently pulled up at the Musain stop, and she hopped onto it, willing herself not to cry.

_It’s fine. Enjolras was probably just being dramatic. You haven’t lost Bahorel! Just get into town, do some shopping, and you’ll be fine. Bahorel was probably just grateful to Claquesous, that’s all!_

__

__

Cosette, confused by Éponine’s sudden disappearance, continued towards the building, but her vision was obscured by thick golden hair as someone crashed right into her! She landed on her butt and looked up with a groan. “Hey Enjolras. What’s the rush?”

Enjolras offered her a hand up. “Sorry, Sette. I was looking for Éponine, I think she’s upset. Have you seen her?”

“Yeah, she went that way,” Cosette pointed to the gates. “I think she might have gone into town.”

“Thanks!” Enjolras called over his shoulder, already charging towards the gates. Cosette followed him out, only to find him groaning at the bus-stop. “I think she took the bus,” he explained. “She looked really upset when she left. We’re all really worried about her.”

“What happened?”

“I told her about the whole Bahorel-Claquesous thing,” Enjolras groaned. “She didn’t take it well.”

“Oh God,” Cosette sighed. “Yeah, she really fancies him, I can see why she’d be upset.”

 

 

Éponine got off the bus in Magix City, scowling fiercely. It was the only way she was managing to stop herself from crying. She walked along the pavement, angrily kicking an abandoned tin can. “Stupid boys,” she muttered, not realising how similar she sounded to Bahorel in that moment. “Who needs ‘em? Not me.” She glanced up at a man giving her an odd look. “Yeah, I’m talking to myself,” she snapped at him, then groaned. _Great, now I’m acting like a crazy person._ She passed a café and glanced in the window, considering stopping and buying a cupcake. A flash of magenta hair caught her eye.  _Bahore_ l? She looked closer, and realised who he was sitting with. _Claquesous?_ It seemed Enjolras had been right. Bahorel was regarding Claquesous with something akin to hunger. She felt her lip wobbling.

 

 

“You see?” Claquesous was saying to Bahorel. “You’re a very special person, Bahorel. It’s too bad though…”

Bahorel took a sip of his coffee. “What’s too bad?”

“The fact that your talent, your ambition, your energy should be wasted learning to become a Wizard at Corinthe,” Claquesous explained. “You could be so much more. If you were with us, you could become so much more powerful.”

Bahorel smirked. “Go on.”

Claquesous smirked too. “For us, all that matters is knowing we can count on you. The rest will come all by itself. You see, we don’t like the group of Faeries who call themselves Les Amis. We don’t like their friends either.” She took his hand. “We agree on this, don’t we?”

Bahorel gave a non-committal shrug, and Claquesous tossed her hair with a grin. “But as of today… you and I…” she linked their fingers “will be bound by…  _magic_.” Her yellow eyes glowed bright purple, and so did Bahorel’s, and he winced for a second before his face assumed a neutral expression. She dropped his hand with a grin, and he grinned back at her.

 

 

To Éponine watching outside, it appeared scarily like a romantic gesture. She hadn’t seen Bahorel’s tiny wince, or his eyes glow purple - all she saw was Bahorel holding hands with a girl who wasn’t her. She could practically feel her heart shattering, along with her hopes, and she clenched her fists, digging her nails in, willing herself not to cry. She stepped away from the window, staring at the ground, and noticed a pair of combat boots pointing towards her. She followed the jeans-clad legs up, past a neat blue shirt, and stared into the face of Babet, who grinned coolly at her. “Well, well, what do we have here?” he smirked.

Gueulemer, who was standing next to him, chuckled meanly. “I believe it’s one of the little Freshman Faeries, Babet.”

Éponine sighed unhappily. “Please, not today. I’m not in the mood.” She turned and made to head back to the bus-stop.

Babet blocked her path. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Back to Musain,” Éponine said emotionlessly.

“No, you’re not,” Babet smirked. “First we wanna know why you were spying on our friend, Claquesous.”

Éponine glared and pushed past him. “I wasn’t spying on anyone, especially not _Claquesous_.” Guelemer blocked her path this time.

“Trust Babet to know a spy when he sees one,” he smirked.

“I bet you were watching Bahorel,” Babet grinned behind her. “You’ve got a crush on him, don’t you?”

“Leave me alone!” Éponine snapped, turning to glare at Babet.

“Silly little kid,” Babet said loftily. “You know, just this morning Bahorel said that he thinks _nothing_ of you. Absolutely _nothing_. To him, you’re just a silly little -”

Éponine punched him.

Babet blinked in surprise, staring down at the blood pouring from his most-likely-broken nose. Gueulemer cackled delightedly. “HA! You got KO’d, Babs.”

Éponine’s eyes widened and she hurriedly apologised. “I’m so sorry, Babet! I don’t know what came over me!”

Babet glared at her. “You’re going to pay for that.” He turned to another Witch, who had been smoking a cigarette and watching the exchange with delight. “You! Get the other Witches. We’re going to teach this Faery a lesson she won’t soon forget.”

The Witch stubbed out her cigarette and nodded, hurrying into the café. Éponine looked Babet in the eyes. “What, you need back-up to fight me? How very brave of you.”

Babet grinned. “I don’t want to fight you, sweetie,” he said silkily. “I just want to give your… ah, facial attributes a little…  _magic treatment_.”

Éponine turned and dashed away as fast as she could.

 

 

The Witch Babet had sent into the café as a messenger stood on a chair and clapped her hands to get the room’s attention. The café was full of Witches; it was pretty much the dark magic hangout. “Hey losers!” the Witch yelled. “Wanna have some fun? Babet’s gonna beat up a Faery. Let’s go!”

A tall, attractive young Witch with dark curly hair and cherry red lips stood up from his table to follow the other Witches outside. His friend grabbed his wrist as he made to leave. “Montparnasse, wait!” she said. “Where are you going? Stay here with me. It’s stupid to gang up on someone.”

Montparnasse glared at his friend. “Babet is powerful, Zelma! He might notice me this time. I don’t wanna miss this!” He dashed out of the café, not noticing Zelma’s unhappy expression.

 

 

Back at Musain, the Amis were all standing next to the bus-stop. “So Éponine went into town on a bus?” Jehan said. “Gosh. I knew she had feelings for Bahorel, but I didn’t know she liked him _that_  much.”

“He’s not a logical choice for a boyfriend anyway,” Courfeyrac added. “He’s kind of mean, have you noticed that?”

“Yeah, but she’s our friend,” Cosette pointed out. “She relies on us to be supportive of her choices, within reason. So I say we head into town after her, buy some ice-cream, bring her back here and have a movie marathon in our apartment.”

“There isn’t another bus into town for half-an-hour, though,” Enjolras groaned. “She could be anywhere in Magix City by now.”

“Need a prince to save the day?” someone behind them grinned. The group turned, and Enjolras beamed when he recognised the dark-haired boy standing next to a Corinthe aircraft.

“Marius!” he said delightedly. Courfeyrac snorted.

“We all know his name, no need to yell,” he teased, but turned bright red when a second boy jumped down from the aircraft.

“Hi, Courf,” Combeferre smiled. Grantaire jumped down next to him.

“Hey, guys,” the redhead smiled. “We saw you at the bus-stop and wondered if maybe you needed a ride.”

Cosette felt her cheeks turn pink at the sight of Grantaire. “Hey, guys. Actually, your timing is perfect.”

“Bahorel’s not with you?” Jehan asked worriedly.

Marius sighed. “After what happened at the race, he’s out of the group.”

“He decided to go it alone,” Combeferre sighed. “He even tried to get Headmaster Lamarque to move him into a different dorm. Needless to say, it’s pretty awkward in our apartment right now. So, how come our timing is so great?”

“We need to find Éponine,” Courfeyrac explained. “She went into Magix City by herself, and we think she’s really upset.”

“Well then, it would be rude of us _not_ to give you a lift,” Grantaire said. “Come on, we’re headed to Magix City anyway.”

“Thanks,” Cosette said relievedly. “You guys are life-savers.”

 

 

“Don’t bother running, Faery! It’s useless!”

Éponine ran as fast as her feet could carry her. “Leave me alone!” she begged to the Witches chasing her. “Please, leave me alone!” She was crying by this point, and she knew it.

The Witches ignored her. Their only response to her pleas was to blast dark magic at her feet. She dodged it, ducking into an alleyway. To her surprise, Bahorel was leaning against the wall of the alleyway, and she ran up to him, tears soaking her face. “Bahorel! You’ve got to help me, please!”

Bahorel surveyed her coldly. “And why would I do that?” he smirked.

Éponine gave a little sob of despair and ran past him, continuing down the alley as fast as she could.

 

 

In the aircraft, Grantaire checked the magic-trail scanner and pointed to the dot moving through the alleyway. “Found her.” He zoomed out and his eyes widened worriedly. “A crowd of Witches are running after her, and she’s stuck in a dead end!” The Amis all gasped in horror. “We’re gonna have to move quickly.”

 

 

Éponine spun wildly, looking for a way out, but three walls surrounded her and the Witches were closing in fast. Babet and Gueulemer, now in their Witch forms, landed on the ground in front of her. Gueulemer folded his arms across his chest, and Babet was holding ice to his nose, but they both wore identical evil smirks. Babet cackled. “Looks like you’ve reached the end of the line, Faery!” he laughed.

Suddenly, the wall behind Éponine shook and warped, and Éponine dived out of the way as it collapsed. A Corinthe airship had landed in the turning bay on the other side of the wall, and the Amis jumped out of it. Recognising them, Éponine ran towards them relievedly. “Guys!”

Her fellow Faeries crowded around her, hugging her. Babet looked furious, and Grantaire smirked.

“Grantaire!” Bahorel’s voice cut through the air sharply. The crowd of Witches parted, and the magenta-haired boy marched towards the red-haired boy. He raised his hand, and a sharp sabre formed in his hand, made of the rocky detritus of the destroyed wall. “Let’s see if you’re that fearless facing __me__.”

Grantaire glared at him. “You want to play rough, huh? Well, if a fight’s what you want, game on!” He raised his hand, drawing a sword made of bright blue flames, and charged towards him. With a crash of swords, they began to duel.

“Come on, losers!” one of the Witches yelled. The group charged into the turning bay, but skidded to a halt as a wall of water burst from the ground, blocking their way. Marius grinned triumphantly, having used his water powers to burst the pipes.

Babet looked furious. He raised his hands, and the air turned freezing. Next to him, Guelemer’s fists crackled with lightening, and a thundercloud appeared behind him. Cosette nodded to the Amis, and they jumped into the air with a cry of “Transform!” In a flash, they were in their Faery forms, and the fight felt more even.

Gueulemer immediately blasted lightening at Courfeyrac, knocking the boy off his feet and into the wall. Combeferre immediately ran to help him, cradling his head carefully. “Courf! Courfeyrac, are you OK?”

Babet meanwhile was blasting shards of ice at Enjolras, who dived behind a parked car. In a flash, the car burst into flames, and Enjolras yelled in fright. Marius abandoned his water wall and ran to help him. Éponine flew to help him too, but Claquesous had entered the fight, and Éponine changed course. The two girls began duelling fiercely, not caring how much damage they inflicted upon the other. Claquesous blasted Éponine out of the sky, and as she was recovering, she snapped her fingers and suddenly there were nine Claquesous’ surrounding poor Éponine. They all made to blast her at once, but a sudden downpour from the cracked pipes made the clones vanish. Marius smirked triumphantly as Claquesous collapsed, the shockwave from the vanished clones having knocked her off her feet.

Without him there to maintain the flow of water, the water wall from the burst pipes vanished, and the Witches angrily blasted Marius simultaneously. He went skidding across the ground, landing next to Éponine, who smiled gratefully at him. “Thanks, Prince Marius.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replied woozily as she took to the air. Meanwhile, Gueulemer was duelling both Cosette and Jehan at once. He sent a bolt of cursed lightening spiralling towards Cosette, who ducked with a yelp. The lightening crashed into poor Jehan, who went careening into a nearby rooftop. Cosette realised her friend was unconscious, and furiously blasted fire at Gueulemer, who sent green blasts back at her just as furiously. Cosette managed to land a blow on his leg, singing his trousers, and the violet-haired Witch grit his teeth furiously. He raised his arms with a flourish, sending a tornado spiralling towards Cosette.

Down on the ground, Courfeyrac was still unconscious, and Combeferre was doing his best to revive him. The bespectacled Wizard looked up in horror as Babet hovered next to him, sending a single blast at the ground, which began to freeze. The ice crept slowly towards him, covering Courfeyrac’s feet and creeping up his shins.

Éponine had gone after Enjolras, who was choking on the smoke from the burning car. She pulled the blond boy away from the fire, holding her breath until they were away from the acrid grey cloud. Enjolras squeezed her hand gratefully before flying back into the fight, and Éponine made to follow him, but Claquesous had also re-entered the fight and was blocking her path. Éponine groaned in irritation. Claquesous’ eyes flashed, and four more parked cars rose into the air, spinning around above Éponine, who gasped worriedly. She made to fly out of the way, but Claquesous used a car to block her path. Éponine turned, and her jaw smacked into another levitating car. She heard a worrying crack, and tasted blood in her mouth, before the world went black and she fell to the ground, unconscious.

Combeferre was desperately trying to wake Courfeyrac before they both froze solid. “Come on, Courf, Wake up!” he muttered. Babet sniggered delightedly.

“Aw, how cute! Frozen lovebirds!” he laughed, but nearly fell out the air in shock when Enjolras leapt in front of Combeferre and Courfeyrac and created a shield made of sunlight. “Pathetic!” the ice Witch snarled, and prepared to use an even more powerful attack towards Enjolras.

Claquesous had clumped all the cars into a ball hovering over Éponine’s unconscious body, and prepared to drop them on her. “I’ll squish you like a cockroach!” she gloated at the unconscious girl.

Cosette noticed Éponine’s current predicament, and flew towards her. Gueulemer blocked her path with a snarl. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Cosette’s eyes narrowed, and her entire body glowed with fire. “To save my friends!” she growled. Her body seemed to have become one with the fire, and everyone, even Grantaire and Bahorel, paused in their fighting to stare at her. Burning white light surrounded her, lighting up the entire alleyway. Everyone closed their eyes against it, and the Witches were knocked out of the sky with a bang, Bahorel hurrying towards Claquesous. The parked cars returned to their pre-fight states, as did the wall and the ground. The ice and wind vanished. The alleyway had been healed.

The Witches were all dashing away as fast as they could. Bahorel was carrying Claquesous, and even Babet and Gueulemer looked panicked. Marius rubbed his eyes, staring up at Cosette in shock. “Grantaire,” he murmured to his friend. “What the fuck is happening?”

“I haven’t a clue, Marius,” Grantaire replied. Cosette landed on the ground in front of them. She was no longer in Faery form, and she looked exhausted. Grantaire ran to help her to her feet.

 

 

The Wizards insisted on giving the Faeries a lift back to Musain, and they accepted the offer gladly. As they cruised over the city, Grantaire offered Cosette a glass of water, and she took it gratefully. “How are you feeling?”

Cosette chugged the water and smiled at him. “Much better. Thanks.”

“With such loving care, how could she not?” Jehan sighed happily to Enjolras, who rolled his eyes fondly.

“How about you, Éponine?” Marius asked the girl.

She smiled properly for the first time since finding out about Bahorel and Claquesous. “I’ll be fine. Thanks, Marius.”

“We’re approaching Musain,” Combeferre called from the control panel. Courfeyrac was sat next to him, watching him fly the ship with an awed look on his face. _So much technology!_

“Are you sure you’ll be able to walk back, Cosette?” Grantaire asked worriedly. “You still look a little peaky.”

“I’ll be fine,” Cosette assured him. “It’s nice that you care, though.”

Enjolras glanced over at her. “I still don’t understand how you managed to defeat an entire coven of Witches singlehandedly, __an__ _ _d__  make the alleyway look like we were never even there.”

“I don’t either, to be honest,” Cosette admitted.

“Well, if nothing else, I have learned something important today,” Éponine laughed. “Never stick around where Witches like to hang out. And as for Bahorel, one thing’s for sure. I saw him in action today, and I think he’s lost every bit of charm he ever possessed. I never want to see him again. He’s gone from a mysterious bad boy to a real jerk.”

 

 

**Meanwhile, at Votirlu…**

The Witches who’d been involved in the fight gloomily headed back to their school. As they walked up the path to the castle, Gueulemer groaned and felt his jaw. “I think I cracked a tooth. Stupid Faeries.”

“Why did we have to leave so fast?” Claquesous complained. “I barely had time to say goodbye to Bahorel.”

“Who cares?” Babet snapped. “We saw Cosette in action again, and she’s super powerful even without decent training! Her powers are extremely potent.Think about that for a second.”

His cousins considered it, and nodded. They understood __exa__ _ _ctly__  what he meant.

 

 

Miss Zephine knocked on the door of Headmaster Myriel’s office and entered. “I removed all the books containing information on Queen Fantine.”

“Good,” Myriel said quietly. “Just one more thing. If Cosette should ever try and find out anything about Fantine again, _you_ _cannot let her find anything.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we've found out a little more about Fantine, and Éponine seems pretty determined to get over Bahorel. And good on ya, girl, punching Babet! Also we got a glimpse of Azelma and Montparnasse, who may be important later on...
> 
> And just why is Cosette so powerful? Why are Patron-Minette so interested in her?  
> All will be revealed soon...


	10. In Which Cosette Has A Different Dream And Gets A Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter is a time for romance, and also apparently a time for surprises. Cosette goes back home and dreams of something other than Fantine for the first time in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter, but it's very important to the overall plot. Hope you enjoy!

It was winter in Magix. Snow was falling, the trees were frosted, and Lake Roccaluce had frozen over. Cosette seriously couldn’t wait for her two week holiday. Classes were going great, but she really missed her dad, and couldn’t wait to see him. Still, snow called for hot chocolate, which was why Cosette and Grantaire found themselves sitting in a cosy little café in Magix City. It was really nice to hang out with him alone, without Éponine, Courfeyrac and Enjolras’ teasing and Jehan cooing. They talked about everything from dragons (Grantaire was learning to wrangle them as part of an elective course) to pizza (Cosette was pretty shocked to find out that even though pizza was readily available in this dimension, Grantaire had never tried it). Eventually the conversation turned to dreams, and Grantaire asked Cosette to explain her Fantine dream. He had a fascination with the concept of somni-communication, and was pretty curious about what Fantine wanted to tell Cosette.

“These dreams sound incredible,” he said thoughtfully when she’d finished her explanation. “So, every night this Nymph reveals more about herself, she knows who you are even though she never calls you by name, and her voice sounds familiar.”

“She looks familiar too,” Cosette added. “And it’s a lot more familiar than if I’d just seen a statue of her or a carving of her face. I don’t know why though. Every night it’s like a new episode of this dream. It’s not by accident. She wants me to remember her, and find her. It’s weird, and I don’t know what triggered it.”

Grantaire sipped his hot chocolate. “Do you think it’s because you found out that you’re a Faery? The timing would make sense.”

“Maybe…” Cosette said thoughtfully. “Speaking of weird things without an explanation, what do you make of the incident in the alleyway? My powers are seriously potent for someone who just discovered them a few months ago. I don’t even know their source! Fantine, the Nymph, might know something about them, but I know barely anything about her besides what she’s told me.”

“Fantine?” Grantaire said sharply. “The Nymph is Fantine?”

Cosette nodded. “I went to the library to look her up, and there were tons of books about her - so many that the library went haywire! But I went back the next week, and there wasn’t even one about her. Clearly someone doesn’t want me to find out something, but I don’t know who or what.”

“I might be able to help there, actually,” Grantaire smiled. “I have my secret weapon for finding information: Combeferre. I’ll let him loose in the library at Corinthe. He’ll find whatever information you need, I’m sure of it.”

Cosette gratefully thanked him, and they finished their drinks before paying and leaving the café. Grantaire walked her back to the bus-stop, and - Cosette squealed internally - kissed her hand before heading off to catch his own bus back to Corinthe. They wouldn’t see each other again until after the winter holiday. Cosette was really going to miss him.

 

 

When she got back to Musain, she headed up to the room she shared with Jehan to finish packing. She’d just shut her suitcase when Enjolras burst into the room, cheeks flushed, a delighted expression on his face. “Wow, Enj,” Jehan smiled. “You sure look happy.”

Enjolras collapsed backwards onto Cosette’s bed. “Sette,” he said dreamily. “Do me a favour. Pinch me so I know I’m not dreaming.” Cosette obediently pinched him, and he yelped. He looked, to her surprise, even happier.

“What’s got you all blushy and happy like this?” she asked.

Enjolras sat up. “Marius and I were walking in the park, and we were debating… something or other… I forget. Anyway, there was some Mistletoe in a tree -”

“There’s Mistletoe in the Magic Dimension?” Cosette asked, and Jehan grinned.

“It was a Faery who _cultivated_ Mistletoe!” they informed her.

“Anyway,” Enjolras continued, “we walked under it, and… he kissed me!”

Cosette and Jehan couldn’t help squealing with him. It seemed romance was in the air, as well as snowflakes.

 

 

Cosette travelled back to Paris the next day. Her father was delighted to see her, and swept her into a huge hug. They headed straight to their house to make dinner together like they used to.

“So, how long are you home for?” Jean Valjean asked her as she chopped carrots and he fried tomatoes.

“Two weeks,” Cosette smiled. “I’ve really missed this, Papa.”

“Me too, chou,” he smiled back, before laughing and guiding the knife away from her fingers. “I’m guessing they don’t teach Home Economics at that fancy school of yours."

Cosette laughed. “Cookery is not my strong-suit.”

“You’ll get there one day,” her father assured her. Cosette giggled fondly, but she suddenly sniffed the air.

“Uh, Papa? Is it just me, or can you smell smoke?”

Valjean sniffed the air, and turned to check the tomatoes - which were on fire! Without him to supervise, a spark had leapt off the stove and set the oil alight. He grabbed a towel, preparing to smother the flames, but Cosette shook her head.

“Allow me, Papa.” She focussed on the fire, separating it from the tomatoes with a burst of magic. Another burst, and the flames vanished. Cosette checked the tomatoes, and to her relief they seemed unharmed thanks to her magic. They really were odd powers - they seemed to be fire-based, but she was able to heal things with them almost by second nature. It made no sense.

Valjean breathed out in relief. “It’s nice having a co-chef with a magic touch,” he teased. Musain might not offer Home Economics classes, but it was a pretty great school for Faeries.

 

 

Cosette strolled through town the next day on her way to her father’s family-owned bakery, _Monsieur Madeleine’s._  The snow was thick upon the ground, and the air was crisp. Cosette breathed in happily. Magix was cool, but nowhere was better than Paris. To err is human, to stroll, Parisian, as the saying went.

Even the sight of Rosetta walking along the pavement towards her couldn’t damped her spirits. In all honesty, Cosette had almost forgotten her old rival’s existence. Patron-Minette made the raven-haired girl look polite and kind-hearted. “Well, well, look who’s back,” Rosette smirked as they came within hearing distance.

“Bonjour, Rosetta,” Cosette said politely. “Yes, I’m here on break.”

“From what?” Rosetta demanded.

“From school,” Cosette said flatly. “Like you. Sorry, I really have to go -”

Rosetta blocked her path. “What’s the rush? Everyone in our class is asking why you left.” It would have sounded concerned, if it weren’t for Rosetta’s bullying tone.

“I got an early acceptance to college,” Cosette smirked. It was nearly true.

“To where?” Rosetta laughed. “The French Institution for Weirdos and Loners?”

“Actually, it’s a college for talented kids,” Cosette replied. “It’s out of the country, very exclusive.”

Rosetta snorted. “Yeah, right. I don’t believe you.”

Cosette shrugged serenely. “Well, that’s your problem, I guess. Au revoir, Rosetta.” She hurried off down the pavement.

 

 

 _Monsieur Madeleine’s_  was bursting with people placing last-minute holiday cake orders, and Valjean was relieved to have Cosette’s help. He hurriedly mixed batter and iced cakes with decorations while Cosette took orders and sorted out delivery times. The winter holidays were the busiest time of year for a baker, after all. They were near closing time, with only one order to go, and as it was the last one of the day, Valjean offered to make and give the woman her cake right there and then. He hurried to take the sponge cake out of the oven, but he looked panicked when he called Cosette into the kitchen. “Cosette!” he groaned. “We’re all out of red sugar roses, we only have white ones! I don’t want to disappoint her, she’s been waiting for most of the afternoon!”

Cosette winked, and sprinkled a little golden dust over the white roses, which glowed golden before turning deep red. Valjean grinned relievedly. “It’s a shame I can’t have your talents with me all the time,” he laughed, hurrying to finish the decorations.

 

 

That night, Cosette was tucked into her own bed in her own room, Wolter asleep in his basket next her. It was weird to not be falling asleep to the sound of Jehan’s gentle snoring, but she managed it eventually. The dream she had that night, however, came as a surprise.

_She was looking down on a burning building. Firemen were dousing the building with water, but it was beyond saving. Suddenly one of the firemen gasped in shock, as did Cosette watching him. It was Jean Valjean! She knew he’d been a volunteer fireman shortly before he’d adopted her from an agency._

_“Do you hear that?” Valjean was saying urgently. “It’s coming from inside! Come on!” He ran back into the building, followed by another fireman. Cosette followed them omnisciently. “There’s a baby in here!” Valjean said, and sure enough Cosette could hear a tiny wailing voice. “Don’t worry, I’m coming!”_

_There was a baby girl in the building sure enough - but to Cosette’s and Valjean’s shock, the flames hadn’t touched her. Instead, they had formed a dome, protecting her from the burning building. Valjean walked slowly towards the baby, amazed, and as he approached the little girl stopped crying and regarded him curiously with huge indigo eyes. She stretched out her arms to the fireman, who lifted her up. She had beautiful golden curls, which he stroked soothingly. “Don’t worry, little one. I’ve got you.”_

Cosette shot up in bed with a shout of “FIRE!” Wolter was woken by her shout and worriedly hopped up onto the bed to snuggle her reassuringly.

Valjean came running into her room in his pyjamas. “Cosette! What’s the matter?” Cosette was shaking all over, and he hurried to sit next to her and hug her comfortingly. “Was it a nightmare? Don’t worry, little one. I’ve got you.”

Cosette’s eyes widened in shock. “Papa… I dreamt that you rescued a baby from a fire. You said that same thing to her… ‘Don’t worry, little one. I’ve got you.’” She gazed at Valjean with wide eyes. “Who was that baby?”

“Oh Cosette,” Valjean whispered. He stroked her hair. “Try to go back to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

 

 

“It wasn’t just a dream, was it?” Cosette said quietly. It was the next morning, and she and Valjean were sitting at the dining table. Their breakfasts sat untouched on the table top, and Valjean, who usually looked much younger than his age of 58, suddenly looked far older. “It happened, didn’t it? I was that baby.” She looked at his face for the first time that day. “I need to know the truth. Tell me the truth. I wasn’t adopted from an agency, was I?”

Valjean sighed, and nodded. “I was going to wait until I felt you were ready. I guess you’re ready now. Fifteen years ago, I saved you from a fire.”

“What was I doing in a fire?” Cosette asked.

“I have no idea,” Valjean said quietly. “It was a miracle. The whole place was up in flames, but the fire didn’t touch you. It was…  _protecting_  you. I don’t know why you were in that building. You were alone, and yet you weren’t afraid. I knew there was something magical about you, Cosette. I looked for your family, but no one recognised you. I was a little relieved, because I already adored you. I’d named you ‘Cosette’ because you were so little, yet so fearless.” He took Cosette’s hand, which was resting on the table, shaking a little. “I never meant to keep secrets from you, Cosette. You are the most important thing to me. You are _everything_ to me. I loved you from the moment I first held you. You will always be my daughter, and you will never stop.”

Cosette looked up at him and gave a shaky smile. “I’m not mad,” she whispered. “I’ll always be your daughter, and you will always be my papa. Nothing will change. You know how we agreed we’d look for my birth parents when I turned eighteen?”

“Yes, Cosette?”

“All this means is that we may have to look a little further than planned.” Cosette got up from the table and ran round to embrace her father. “I love you, Papa.”

“I love you too, Cosette. So, so much.”

 

 

The rest of her winter break was uneventful. She and her father spent Christmas morning at church, then went back home to open presents and have Christmas dinner. They went ice-skating on Boxing Day, and watched the fireworks on TV at New Years’. Cosette was almost disappointed when the time came for her to return to Musain - _almost._ It was wonderful to see her friends again and hear about how they’d spent their winter holidays. Enjolras was tanned from the beach in Solaria, Jehan had an entire suitcase of new plants, Courfeyrac was sporting slightly shorter but still as bouncy curls, and Éponine’s hair looked like it had been attacked by a swarm of bees.

“Holidays at my family’s place can get a bit out of hand,” was all she would say of the wild tangles when asked.

They were all incredibly interested to hear Cosette’s news about her unusual adoption. She assured them that she was coping fine with the news - her father loved her, and she loved him. It had just been a bit of a surprise, that’s all. So really, nothing had changed. “Although, I am a little disappointed that I didn’t know sooner,” she joked. “That would have been a great story to bring out at parties.” Her friends all laughed, and she smiled softly before adding, “I just have so many questions now.”

“Like what?” Enjolras asked.

Cosette stood up and began pacing up and down the length of the living area. “Well, I _am_ a Faery. So how did I end up on good old non-magical Earth? And that’s not all. Who were my birth parents? Did my powers come from them? And what does Fantine have to do with it all?”

“That is a _lot_  of questions,” Courfeyrac agreed. “And not many answers to go around.”

“But we’ll help you figure it out,” Jehan promised. “We’re with you to the end.”

“Absolutely,” Enjolras agreed.

“That was never really a question,” Éponine laughed.

Cosette smiled brightly. She may not have known who her birth parents were, or where her powers came from, but she had a father who loved her, and the best friends in the world. And that made the future appear a little less daunting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Cosette wasn't adopted from an agency. Who are her birth parents? Where is she from? You can probably guess - I'm a sucker for dramatic irony.
> 
> Can you guess why she was sent to Earth though? Muhahaha-*chokes*-sorry.


	11. In Which Azelma Helps Cosette And Pays A Heavy Price

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette is determined to get some answers, and Grantaire offers to help her - but the answers she gets are shocking. Meanwhile, Azelma has a conspiracy to uncover - and we finally learn a little more about Éponine's family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter!! Some thrilling stuff happens in this one, I hope y'all enjoy it!!

While Musain and Corinthe were normally surrounded by bright, sunny weather, the area around Votirlu castle tended towards gloomier skies. In a Freshman Witch class, Azelma looked awkwardly out of the window at the swirling black clouds surrounding the castle, wishing she was anywhere else. Headmaster Thénardier took this particular class, and he was currently quizzing her on transformation. “Come on, Azelma, it’s a simple question!” he said frustratedly - but not too frustrated. He had a hard job being truly annoyed with Azelma.

Azelma winced a little. “On the, um, on the first night of the full moon, we shouldn’t cast spells of, uh, transformation, because light rays from the full moon could cause negative interference, resulting in, uh, permanent and unwanted changes,” she replied. She could feel her knees shaking a little.

Headmaster Thénardier nodded approvingly. “Good, but you sounded a little hesitant. A good Witch needs to be confident. You may sit.”

Azelma returned to her seat next to Montparnasse. “So, I never asked you,” she whispered as Thénardier quizzed another student on attack spells. “How did it go with Babet? Did he notice you?”

Montparnasse scowled. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Azelma sighed and sank down in her seat. She and Montparnasse had once shared everything with each other. Now it seemed like those days were gone, and Montparnasse was remodelling his personality to be like his idol.

 

 

The Headmaster of Musain was also quizzing Freshmen, but his test was a little more hands on. Students were required to fly through a maze of light beams, retrieve a rose from the centre, make their way back out, and plant the rose while avoiding a heavy obstacle. It was Cosette’s turn, and she ducked and weaved between the beams, nearly crashing into one with a yelp. She pulled back, and with a great leap snatched the rose from the centre of the maze. Keeping the delicate flower close to her chest, she ran back towards the exit, fluttering between two of the beams. Cosette rolled like a gymnast over to the plant pot, blasting the obstacle to pieces with fire and setting the flower carefully in the soil.

The Amis all cheered loudly for their friend, and Myriel chuckled. “Settle down,” he smiled at them. “Excellent performance, Cosette. You may return to your seat.” Cosette allowed her Faery form to vanish, and she sat down next to Éponine with a smile. Despite her uncertainty about her origins, everything else seemed to be looking up. She was acing her classes, and she had a ~~date~~  hangout with Grantaire the next day. She felt on top of the world.

 

 

They met at a café as usual, and the weather was once again nice enough to sit outside, and they both ordered ice-cream sundaes to go with the warm weather. Grantaire was telling her a funny story about Combeferre, but Cosette was a little distracted. They were right across from the Museum of Magix, and Fantine’s countenance was carved on the stone façade of the building. It reminded her too much of all the questions she had about her past.

“And since I’m such a wonderful guy, I went with him!” Grantaire was chuckling. “Cosette?” He noticed her preoccupation. “Cosette, what’s wrong? Was it something I said?” He looked ready to apologise, and Cosette quickly reassured him that it wasn’t his fault.

“I’m just thinking… about my birth parents. Sorry,” Cosette sighed. “There are just so many questions left unanswered.” She reached out and took his hand, which was resting on the table top. “The only things I’m sure of right now are you and my friends.”

Grantaire smiled. “Well, let’s see if we can answer some of your questions.”

“It’s probably not that easy,” Cosette sighed. “Most of them involve where I come from and why my powers are so strong.”

“Those are pretty tough questions,” Grantaire agreed.

“I tried the Musain library, and you tried the Corinthe library. I was thinking… maybe I should try the Votirlu library. But I can’t get access to their archives.”

“If you really want to check them, I could give you a hand,” Grantaire offered.

“It’s risky,” Cosette warned, but he smiled and shook his head.

“What are friends for, if not taking risks with?”

 

 

Back at Corinthe, Grantaire sought out Combeferre. Ferre was all for rule-breaking in the pursuit of knowledge, and managed to find a blueprint of Votirlu for Grantaire. He was even nice enough to help him draw up a breaking-and-entering plan.

“You can use your hover-bike to get up to this window,” Combeferre explained, pointing it out on the map.

“Yeah, but we’re talking extremely high altitudes,” Grantaire pointed out.

“No problem. Just fly close to the building and zigzag all the way up to the entry point.”

“Cool,” Grantaire nodded. He glanced at the curly-haired prince lying on the bed next to him. “And don’t worry, Marius. I’ll be careful.”

“I know you’ll be careful, but that’s not the point,” Marius said, sitting up. “Accidents happen, and in this case, Grantaire, the accident would result in a three-hundred foot free-fall.”

“I know, but Cosette needs help and I promised her I would give her that help.”

“Alright,” Marius sighed. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Combeferre held up the blueprints. “So, shall we go over the plan again?”

None of them knew that Bahorel was listening at the door. He grinned delightedly, knowing someone who would love to know this information. He hid himself behind the dragon stables, where he could be sure no one would disturb him, and focussed hard on the psychic link his girlfriend had set up between them.

 _Claquesous_ , he thought to her.

**Bahorel. What do you want?**

_I have some news for you._

**Oh, goody!**

 

 

Cosette lay on her bed that night, unable to sleep. Grantaire had texted her his plan, and she felt exhilarated at the thought of what it would involve. She wasn’t expecting it to go into action until the next day, which was why she jumped at the sound of someone tapping on the window. Careful not to wake the snoring Jehan, she padded over to open it.

Grantaire was sitting on his hover-bike, parked in mid-air outside her window. “Hey,” he grinned. “Sorry about the late night call, but I had to sneak in. Hope I didn’t scare you.”

“Good thing you’re so sneaky,” Cosette teased in a whisper. “Imagine if Javert had got his hands on you!”

Grantaire smiled, but his face quickly turned serious. “We have to hurry. Hop on.”

“What, now?”

“A round trip to Votirlu College will take a while. We’d better get a move on,” Grantaire explained. “And hey, why put off until tomorrow what you can do today?”

Cosette smiled. “Do you think three short minutes would jeopardise the mission?”

“I don’t think so. Why?”

“Because I’m still in my jammies,” she giggled. Grantaire giggled too, and she hurried back into the apartment to change into something suitable for breaking and entering into a castle in the dead of night.

 

 

In Montparnasse’s dorm room at Votirlu, Azelma had voiced her concerns about his fascination with Patron-Minette to him, but he’d brushed her off. “You don’t understand, Zelma! I want to be like them. I want to be part of the gang! I don’t want to be considered a loser like you, always picked on and put down, or else ignored. Do me a favour, stop telling me who to be. I want to be a member of Patron-Minette.”

Azelma left the dorm looking and feeling miserable. Montparnasse had totally changed since they’d started at Votirlu. He was right, Azelma _was_  picked on and pushed around by the other Witches, partly because she was Headmaster Thénardier’s daughter and they wanted to remind her that she wasn’t special, and partly because of her timid, forgiving personality. They didn’t see her as a true Witch.

 _I’ve had it with that stupid coven!_ Azelma thought furiously to herself. _Since Montparnasse met them, he’s gone from my irritating best friend to a power-obsessed meanie!_ She marched through the halls, up spiral staircases and through secret passageways, until she reached a tiny stone door and exited onto the battlements of the castle. Azelma stood looking over the castle’s roofs and the lake beyond, before taking a step back and raising her hands. She and Montparnasse had been friends forever, and she wasn’t about to let Patron-Minette lead her friend down the wrong path. “Ostende Mihi Dominus Feles,” she muttered, focussing hard. “Come on, work, you stupid spell! Show me Patron-Minette!  _Ostende Mihi Dominus Feles!”_

This time the spell worked, and a magical projection appeared in front of her. Babet was talking to his two cousins, and Azelma focussed on turning up the volume of the conversation to hear what he was saying.

“OK, here’s my plan,” Babet was saying. “We mess with the Archives and play a little trick on Cosette, and tell her a lie that will strike fear into her heart. Then, when she’s all crying and confused, we track her down and take what we want from her!”

The image vanished, leaving only the echo of Babet’s cackle, and Azelma’s eyes widened. “That poor girl! I’ve got to find her. Patron-Minette has turned Montparnasse against me, so I’ll repay them in kind. I’ll find Cosette and warn her of their plan, and expose them as the liars they are!” she murmured to herself.

 

 

Grantaire’s hover-bike sped over Lake Roccaluce, and through the forest on the Votirlu bank. They were nearly there, and Cosette held on tight. As they reached the castle itself, Grantaire circled the building as they flew upwards, making sure he stayed in harmony with the wind blowing past. One little slip and it would be game over. They had just made it to the top when a flash of bright pink magic blinded them briefly, and Cosette clung to Grantaire. “What was that?” she whispered.

“The castle’s defence system,” Grantaire whispered back. “They don’t need anti-aircraft artillery at this height, they just need to destabilise any potential threat and gravity will do the rest of the work for them. They don’t know who they’re dealing with, though.”

He carefully manoeuvred the bike down onto the battlements, landing gently enough that it didn’t set off the defence systems again. Grantaire climbed off the bike, and offered Cosette a hand down. “Combeferre went over the defences with me when we were checking the blueprints. Come on, the window should be this way.” He took her hand and led her along the battlements to a narrow window that opened onto a spiralling staircase. They climbed through the window, and Grantaire pulled out a little hand-held device and checked it. “Ferre even managed to download the blueprints onto my GPS. He’s a pretty cool guy. The archive should be down this staircase and through a door.”

Together they padded down the stone staircase to the surprisingly normal-looking door at the bottom. Cosette made to push it open, but Grantaire stopped her. “Wait! Cosette, are you  _sure_ you want to do this?”

Cosette nodded. “I have to know the truth about myself, Grantaire.” She pushed open the door, and the two of them entered the archive of Votirlu - a sort of vault of magical books and other assorted objects.

Grantaire’s eye was immediately caught by an open book on a pedestal, with pages that seemed to be glowing. He pulled Cosette over to it. “Check this out. I think it’s…” He checked the cover. “Yes! It’s the Book of Questions. It contains an answer to every question ever. There’s some serious magical folklore surrounding this book.”

“Whoa,” Cosette murmured in awe. “Every question?”

Grantaire nodded. “Every single one. You could ask it your questions!”

Cosette took a deep breath, and touched the white parchment page. “I want to know who I really am,” she told the book.

The book glowed, and Cosette could see an image of three ancient Witches, robed in darkness. They were surrounding a baby - the same baby from her dream. A voice echoed through her head:  _You are one of us! You are our incarnation, and as soon as you become a true Faery, your destiny with us will be fulfilled, Cosette!_ The Witches surrounded the baby, who had grown into a young woman - Cosette. The Witches turned into clouds of black smoke, and enveloped her body, vanishing under her skin, possessing her! The image changed, and Cosette was now destroying a city that looked awfully like Magix, and her eyes were glowing scarlet.

Cosette yanked her hand away from the book, shaking in horror. Grantaire tapped her shoulder worriedly. “Cosette? What did you see?”

“I’m the incarnation of three ancient Witches,” Cosette whispered. She couldn’t quite believe it. “As soon as I become a true Faery, they will take possession of me, and -” she cut herself off with a horrified sob.

Grantaire backed away, looking horrified. “You? The incarnation of the Ancestral Witches? No… there must be some mistake!”

Cosette gazed at him, her eyes filling with tears. “Please, Grantaire, you can’t just stand there! You’ve got to help me!”

Grantaire sighed sadly, staring at the floor. A tear streaked down Cosette’s cheek. “What can I say, Grantaire?” she whispered. “It’s not what I wanted. It’s simply my fate. I can’t do anything about it.”

“I’ll take you back to Musain,” Grantaire whispered. He wouldn’t meet her eyes, and they spent the ride back in uncomfortable silence. As they left the archive, however, neither of them heard the swish of a cloak or the quiet click of heels on a carpet.

 

 

The next morning at Musain, Jehan barged into Éponine’s room without knocking. She shrieked and hurried to flatten her fringe over her left eye. “What’s the matter, Jehan? What’s so important that the rules of common courtesy don’t apply?”

“It’s Cosette,” Jehan explained. “She left a note saying she was going out and that she’d be back before morning, but it’s nearly 9 and she’s still not back!”

Éponine’s visible eye widened with worry. “Fuck,” she murmured.

Enjolras and Courfeyrac followed Jehan into the room, both looking as worried as the flower Faery. “We searched all over Musain for her,” Courfeyrac said worriedly.

“We even talked to Grantaire,” Enjolras sighed. He sat down on the bed and ran a hand through his golden curls. “He says he dropped her off at the gates, but he left before she went in.”

Éponine finished knotting her hair into her normal neat buns. “We’ve got to go and look for her,” she said firmly.

 

 

Cosette, meanwhile, had fallen asleep in a pile of leaves in the middle of the forest, and she stretched and awoke as the sun rose over Magix. She groaned as she realised how far behind schedule she was - she intended to get to Magix and find a way back home to Paris, in order to avoid putting the whole Magic Dimension in danger. The Ancestral Witches couldn’t reach her in a place with no magic, right? She brushed the leaves off her jeans and set off.

 

 

Azelma was in the same forest as Cosette, desperately searching for the Faery. When it came to magic, Azelma specialised in emotion-driven spells, and she was tracking Cosette by sensing the Faery’s currently extremely strong emotions. The intensity flared, and she knew she couldn’t be far.

A rustling in the bushes up ahead made her pause. Azelma, hopeful that it was Cosette but unsure if it was perhaps a potentially unfriendly creature, dodged behind a tree and peeked out.

To her relief it was a girl who could only be Cosette, with wide eyes at the sight of another human being in the forest so early in the morning. “Who are you?” Cosette asked.

Azelma stepped out from behind the tree. “Um, I’m Azelma.”

Cosette smiled friendlily at her. “Hi, Azelma. I’m Cosette.”

“I know,” Azelma nodded. Cosette looked confused, and a little wary.

“You do?”

“I’ve been looking for you,” Azelma explained. As she got closer, she saw Cosette recoil a little, and she realised it was probably her eyes scaring the girl. One was dark brown, and the other was bright yellow. She gestured to them with an apologetic grin. “Heterochromia. It’s weird, but I’m kinda used to it by now.” Cosette nodded slowly.

“Anyway, there’s something very important I need to tell you.” Azelma moved closer to Cosette, gazing directly into the blonde Faery’s eyes. “Patron-Minette is trying to trick you!”

 

 

Patron-Minette were in the forest too, and like Azelma, they were also searching for Cosette. As they passed a bramble bush, Gueulemer casually blasted lightening at the leaves, setting it alight. He repeated the action on a nearby pine-tree, and Claquesous turned to glare at him.

“Knock it off, Gueulemer!” she snapped. “If you keep showing off like that, you’ll set the whole forest on fire!”

Gueulemer glared and sent a blast at Claquesous feet. His cousin dived out of the way with a yell. “What the hell, Gueulemer?!”

“Sorry,” Gueulemer responded, not sounding sorry at all. “Missed your face.”

“Shut up, you two!” Babet snapped in a whisper. “We’re searching for a potentially flighty Faery. Quit yelling!”

Both Witches sighed obediently. “Sorry, Babet,” they chorused.

 

 

The four Faeries headed out of the building and through the wing-shaped gates. Courfeyrac cracked his knuckles. “OK, we’ve got a situation here. We need to find Cosette ASAP.”

“And the only way to do that,” Jehan mused, “is to use our powers.”

The Amis grinned. “Transform!” they cheered together, and with a flash they were in their Faery forms. They formed a circle and got ready to formulate a plan.

“OK, first we need to know which way we’re going,” Enjolras stated.

“Easy,” Jehan smiled. “Something has seen Cosette walk right through here, and we’re standing on it.”

“The grass?” Courfyerac raised his eyebrows. “Smart thinking, Jehan.”

Jehan fluttered into the air. “Golden Pollen!” they shouted, and blew the familiar golden dust onto the grass. It glittered for a second, before forming an arrow pointing south-west. “Cosette went this way! Grassy fields have an excellent memory.”

“I’ll use a low-frequency sound wave to probe the area,” Éponine suggested. She hummed, low in her throat, and her friends felt the wave wash over them as it spread out. Éponine listened carefully to the echo. “Scanning complete.”

“I can analyse the data,” Courfeyrac smiled. He and Éponine grasped hands, and their fingers glowed. Courfeyrac let go of Éponine, and clenched his eyes shut for a moment before grinning and opening them. “OK, let’s see,” he murmured. He flattened his palm, and a map was projected into the air. “Yes! See this dot?” He pointed to a glowing golden dot on the map. “The probe detected a Faery life-force in Roccaluce Forest. That has to be Cosette.”

“And now it’s my turn!” Enjolras grinned. He fluttered into the air with a cry of “Rising Sun!” Suddenly his whole body was glowing, and the glow reached far. He was like a miniature sun. “I can light up the forest so we can see her! Let’s go!” The Amis all took to the air and fluttered over the forest towards the real-life counterpart of the dot on the map.

 

 

“So you understand, Cosette?” Azelma finished explaining Patron-Minette’s plan to Cosette, who was staring at her with wide eyes. “It was all a mean trick.”

Cosette sighed and pushed her blonde hair out of her face. “I’m so confused.” And it wasn’t helped by the fact that Azelma looked weirdly familiar. Her face was round and tanned, and her heterochromatic eyes were slanted. Her hair was dark brown, nearly black, and was cropped short at the back but longer at the front. A streak of blue ran down the left side, and a little red braid was on the right. Her voice was familiar too. Cosette had definitely never met her before, though. “Who am I, then?” she continued. “Why am I so powerful?”

A shadow fell over the two, and they turned to face Patron-Minette, who were hovering just off the ground and smirking meanly at them. “You want to know about your powers?” Babet asked, grinning. “Don’t bother. In a moment, they won’t be your problem any more.” He noticed Azelma, and his grin widened. “Ah, and I see you’ve met Azelma, the little Witch who uses emotions to create illusions. How cute, two losers for the price of one!”

Cosette glared at Babet. “Didn’t I kick your ass hard enough last time? What’s it going to take to get you to stop being such an asshole?”

“I’m not an asshole!” Babet snapped. “I’m a diabolical, power-hungry genius. Get it right!”

“Oh, shut up already!” Enjolras snapped behind him. Babet turned to face Cosette’s friends glaring at him and his cousins, their hands full of magic blasts ready to fire. “Let’s make this a fair fight!”

Gueulemer summoned a tornado, which spun towards the Amis. They were apparently unaffected by it, and Claquesous rolled her eyes. “Don’t waste your energy, Mer. I got this.” Her eyes flashed, and to Cosette’s shock, the Amis disappeared. Claquesous turned to glare at Azelma. “Trying to fool the Queen of Black Magic with a pathetic illusionary effect, Azelma?” she laughed. “Bad trick from a useless Witch.”

Babet nodded in agreement. “You’re going to wish you hadn’t done that in a second, Azelma, dear,” he cackled. “Payback’s a bitch!” With that, he sent an icy blast spinning towards Cosette and Azelma. They had no chance to avoid it or combat it, and in a millisecond they were both frozen solid.

Babet looked delighted and started to gloat to Claquesous and Gueulemer, “This will be easy -” but he was suddenly blasted out of the air by a burst of sunlight. The real Amis - not an illusion this time - had arrived.

“Leave them alone!” Enjolras yelled. He glanced at the ice block, and his eyes narrowed in confusion. _Who’s that little girl with Cosette?_ Éponine noticed Azelma too, but her face betrayed nothing. Enjolras blasted the ice with more sunlight, and it melted away, freeing Cosette and Azelma.

Patron-Minette looked furious. Gueulemer flew towards the Amis, sending two more tornadoes spinning towards them. The Faeries grouped together, and with a snap of Gueulemer’s fingers they were bound together by heavy chains. There was no way for them to escape the tornadoes.

“NO!” Cosette yelled, and with an elegant twirl she had transformed too. She flew towards the tornadoes, but the high winds prevented her from getting close enough to combat them.

Azelma, determined to help Cosette - who had been nicer to her in a ten-minute conversation than Patron-Minette had been to her in eight months of acquaintanceship - raised her hands, which were glowing with bright blue magic. With a bang, a huge monster appeared behind Patron-Minette, and it roared loudly at them. It was made of all of Azelma’s own anger at Patron-Minette.

The monster had the desired effect, distracting Gueulemer long enough for both the tornadoes and the chains to vanish. The Amis flew free, and Babet clenched his fists furiously.

“That’s it, Azelma! I’ve had it with you!” he snarled. “You’re a pain in the butt! You are nothing but an insolent, annoying little…” he cast around for a suitable noun, and his gaze came to a halt on the little golden pumpkin charm on Azelma’s necklace. “…Pumpkin?” He mulled it over in his mind for a second before grinning. “Why not?”

Azelma’s eyes widened in fright, and she turned to make a run for it, but to no avail. Babet’s blast caught her in the back, and she screamed as her body began twisting and mutating. Cosette flew towards her to try and help her, but she was too late. Babet’s spell was complete.

Where Azelma had been standing, there was now a bright orange pumpkin. It had two green leaves, one with a dark streak down the centre and the other twisted, and on its skin there were two blotches positioned and shaped like Azelma’s eyes: one dark and the other yellowish.

The Witches all cackled, but their attention was caught by something else: Cosette’s body was glowing with magic, and a bright scarlet streak shot out of her chest, blasting all three of them with fiery magic. They hurriedly vanished themselves away from the forest, furious that their plan had failed.

Enjolras sat up from where he’d landed on the ground. “Hey, we’re un-transformed,” he realised. Courfeyrac, Jehan and Éponine sat up too, and Courfeyrac’s eyes widened with worry.

“Where’s Cosette though?”

“Not again,” Enjolras groaned.

A hand poked out of a nearby bush and waved at them, and Cosette stood up and climbed out of it. “Hey, guys,” she smiled. “Boy am I glad to see you.” Courfeyrac dashed over to give her a hand, and Éponine and Jehan had wandered over to the Azelma-pumpkin.

“Who was that girl with you?” Jehan asked.

Cosette opened her mouth to reply, but Éponine beat her to it. “Her name’s Azelma, and she’s a Freshman Witch at Votirlu,” she informed her friends.

Cosette nodded. “She overheard Patron-Minette’s plan and came to warn me. She hates them nearly as much as we do. She didn’t deserve to be turned into a pumpkin.”

“We’ve got to turn her back then,” Éponine said fiercely. “We can, right?”

Jehan felt the pumpkin’s skin carefully. “I’m afraid it might not be that easy,” they said sadly. “Babet’s spell was Black Magic. I’m not at a high enough level of horticultural magic to break a spell like that.”

“Well, there’s got to be someone who can break it?” Éponine asked. “Right?”

Jehan shrugged. “I don’t know, Ponine,” they replied. “It might wear off naturally, but that could take years.”

“We can’t just do nothing!” Éponine said desperately.

“I’m afraid this might be one of those times where there’s nothing to __be__  done,” Courfeyrac said softly, but Éponine shook her head, tears pooling in her visible eye.

“No, you don’t _understand._  Azelma’s more than just a brave little kid who helped Cosette,” she said. “She’s _my little sister.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Éponine and Azelma are sisters!! And Azelma has been turned into a pumpkin! NOOOOO!!
> 
> My favourite line of dialoguein this chapter is probably "I'm not an asshole! I'm a diabolical, power-hungry genius!"


	12. In Which There Are Decisions And Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jehan searches for a way to return Azelma to her human form, and Headmaster Myriel decides to give Cosette some information. Meanwhile Patron-Minette face the consequences of turning Azelma into a pumpkin.

When they got back to Musain, Jehan insisted that Cosette take a nap. The blonde Faery was exhausted, and looked it, and she was all too happy to comply. The redhead offered Éponine some camomile tea for the shock of her sister being transmuted into a pumpkin, before going to examine said pumpkin, which was sitting on their desk. Careful not to wake the sleeping Cosette (who, to her surprise when she woke up an hour later, didn’t dream of anything for the first time in months), Jehan consulted the contents page of their copy of _Hortensius Magica: A Compendium of Essays,_ before flipping to the chapter on ‘Human Souls In Plant Bodies’.

 _Human souls,_ the book read, _are not built to exist as vegetation. Although it is possible for a human soul to survive in the body of a plant for a brief period of time, the essences of each will eventually meld together. It is possible to prevent this from happening by keeping the plant healthy while continuing to stimulate the mind of the human, but this can only prevent merged essences for so long. The best way to prevent this from happening is to turn the human back as quickly as possible (for more information, see page 546)._

Jehan flipped eagerly to page 546, but groaned in frustration when they reached it. It was written in an entirely different language, with an entirely different alphabet! Jehan swore quietly before turning to the Azelma-pumpkin. “Don’t worry, Zelma - is it OK if I call you that?” They listened for a second before nodded. “Cool, Azelma it is. Don’t worry, Azelma. I’m going to figure out what language this is, and I’m going to get your normal body back. _I promise._ ”

It would be tough, no doubt, but if Jehan could learn to speak fluent Eratherbian in two weeks, they could learn this language, whatever it was. At that moment, Courfeyrac poked his head through the door.

“How’s the de-pumpkinifying going?” he asked.

Jehan shrugged. “Meh. I know how to keep her alive - we keep the pumpkin the way we’d keep a regular pumpkin, only we need to talk to Azelma too, to make sure her mind keeps working and she doesn’t ‘merge essences’ with the pumpkin. Unfortunately, I have __n__ _ _o id__ _ _ea__  how we’re going to, as you put it, de-pumpkinify her. _Hortensius Magica_ is a compendium of ancient essays, rather than an instruction manual. And the one I need is in an entirely different, probably long-dead language.”

Courfeyrac looked thoughtful. “We have to keep her from ‘merging essences’, huh?” he pondered. “I think I may have an idea to turn her back… can I borrow your book?”

Jehan nodded, handing it over with a curious quirk of their eyebrow, but Courfeyrac wouldn’t say anything more.

 

 

In his office at Votirlu, Headmaster Thénardier put his phone down with an audible clunk. He had a rare expression on his face - one of shock and a little horror, and it looked out of place on the normally formidable-looking Witch. He reached for the microphone on his desk, and with a deep breath, demanded that Babet, Claquesous and Gueulemer come to his office immediately.

 

 

When Cosette woke up, Enjolras told her that Headmaster Myriel had asked for her to come and see him. She was a little surprised, and a little worried, especially when Enjolras added that it was apparently about something important, but when she knocked on the door and Myriel answered “Come in,” she relaxed when she saw the friendly smile on his face. “Ah, Cosette. Please come in and sit down,” he smiled.

Cosette shut the door and sat down on the chair facing Myriel’s desk. He sat in his own chair and rested his chin on his steepled fingers. “I’ve been thinking about what happened in the library before the winter holiday. I know that you are searching for Fantine.”

Cosette nodded, almost too excited to breath. “I am, sir.”

“Fantine was one of the Supreme Nymphs of Magix, and a great Queen when she ruled over Domino before her disappearance nearly sixteen years ago. After careful consideration, I have decided to show you as much as I can about her.”

Cosette held her breath in anticipation. Maybe she was about to finally get some answers!

The old man stood and walked around the desk. “Come on, there is much to be seen.” He raised his hands, creating a portal against the wall, and Cosette followed him through it.

They found themselves standing at the bottom of a lake with clear blue water. A brightly coloured fish swam through Cosette’s stomach, and she jumped, realising they were not actually in a lake, but were instead sort of astral-projecting into it. “Cool,” she whispered.

“Fantine spent most of her life on Domino, but she had a strong connection to Lake Roccaluce, which is where we find ourselves now,” Myriel explained. “Her powers are tied to it, and she would often visit Magix to spend time in and around the lake. Come this way.” Myriel walked forward along the lake-bed, and Cosette followed him, looking around in amazement.

Soon they reached a huge cave mouth, and Myriel pointed to it. “This is the part of the lake that Fantine was most connected to: the depths of the Siren’s Cave. I’m afraid I cannot follow you in; you must enter alone.” Cosette nodded, and entered the cave.

The caverns within were surprisingly bright; light bounced off the shimmering pink-hued rocks that made up the walls of the cave. Cosette followed the natural path through the cave until she found the source of the light - something that was glowing so brightly she had to screw up her eyes to try and see what it was.

As she got closer, the light dimmed in intensity, and she realised what - or rather, who - the source was: Fantine! Or at least a projection of her. Cosette reached out her hand, but like in her dreams, Fantine was just out of reach, no matter how close she tried to get. Cosette realised the Nymph was holding something - an ornate chest, which sprung open. Inside was a silver circlet with a blue crystal in the centre. Cosette gazed at the crown in awe, but suddenly she felt her whole body being pulled backwards. She blinked, and the lake was gone. She was back in her chair in Myriel’s office.

Myriel was sitting across from her, holding a hand to his temple as though he had a headache. Despite this, he was smiling at her. “Cosette, I’ve shown you as much as I can about Fantine. She disappeared towards the end of the War on Domino, as I’m sure you already knew, and she was the last of her family. She was an only child, unmarried, and as far as I know had no heir. I only hope that that is enough to satisfy your quest for knowledge.”

“Thank you, sir,” Cosette replied softly. Inside, her head was spinning. Why had Fantine shown her the crown? “Sir,” she said slowly, “should I want to know more about her, what steps should I take?”

“I’m afraid I do not know, Cosette,” Myriel replied. “The War on Domino is a tricky area of our dimension’s history. I fear that any more research on it may be dangerous for you.”

Cosette nodded. “I understand, sir.” With that, she stood and left the study. Myriel leaned back in his chair. He could only hope that Cosette would heed his advice.

 

 

Thénardier gazed coldly at the three Witches standing on the other side of his desk. “How dare you,” he whispered. “HOW DARE YOU!”

“How dare we what?” Babet answered in an innocent voice. Thénardier clenched his jaw, yellow eyes glittering with fury.

“This year has been an absolute disgrace for all three of you. First you fail to ruin the gala for the Faeries and the Wizards -”

“Sir, with all due respect,” Claquesous interrupted, “I think you’ve said this to us before.”

“SILENCE!” Thénardier raged. “As I was saying, that first mistake this year was a forgiveable one. But then you began cutting classes and acting as though you were too good for this school. Of course, that was not too huge a crime. You are Witches, after all; not expected to follow the rules like Faeries. But then you broke into Musain College - _twice!_  Myriel’s response was humiliating for me to deal with, and it is against the code of honour amongst the magic schools to inflict destruction upon each others’ walls. That was a rule I could _barely_  excuse you breaking! But now this. This. This is the last straw!”

“I don’t get it,” Gueulemer mumbled to Babet. “What has he found out about?”

“Azelma Thénardier,” the Headmaster growled. “Does that name ring any bells? Because I just received a telephone call about her. I have asked her to come to my office repeatedly, but she has not responded. I have searched the forest and the city for her with magic. And then I get a phone call from a trusted source and eye-witness, telling me that you three have used black magic to turn her into a pumpkin!”

“She… was being annoying?” Gueulemer offered. Babet stood heavily on his foot. “Ah-ow!”

“So you admit it!” Thénardier snarled. “You three, whom I have excused so many times, not just this year but in the three years you have attended this school, have turned my DAUGHTER into a damn pumpkin! Well, I am finished making excuses for you!” He stood, and leaned over the desk to glare at them. “You’re expelled!”

“WHAT?!” the three Witches chorused.

“Yes, expelled! From this moment onwards, the three of you will never set foot in this castle EVER AGAIN, am I making myself clear?” Thénardier snapped. “Now, _get out!”_ He snapped his fingers, and the three Witches vanished, reappearing on the steps up to the front door, surrounded by their luggage.

Babet grit his teeth. “I don’t know how,” he snarled at his cousins, “but one of those annoying Faeries squealed on us. Mark my words, _they will pay!”_


	13. In Which I Can't Believe It's Not Grantaire!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette intends to confront Grantaire about him avoiding her - but she ends up confronting someone else... with some pretty bad consequences...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we continue, I’d first like to put this into a little context:  
> A few weeks after the events of the previous two chapters, the Corinthe College for Wizards is planning a mid-term showcase of the skills their students have been learning. Cosette and Grantaire are still awkward around each other, as Grantaire still believes Cosette to be the incarnation of the three Ancestral Witches even though she knows she is not. Meanwhile, Jehan is still waiting for Courfeyrac to figure out a way to change Azelma back into a human.  
> Thank you.  
> Now, onwards with the story.

Cosette continued painting green gunk onto Enjolras’ hair. “Are you sure this stuff is going to work? It’s kinda gross.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Again, _yes_. Jehan made it, and I trust our little hippie flower child completely. Do you know how hard it is to maintain these curls? I’ve been working doubly hard this year to try and make up for my screw-up last year, and I have hardly any time to keep it all shiny.”

“OK, whatever you say, Enj…”

Enjolras tipped his head back and gave her an upside-down inquisitive look. “What’s up with you, Sette?”

“What?” Cosette started a little.

“You’re completely out of it. What’s troubling you?”

Cosette sighed. “Just… y’know. Having trouble finding anything out about my past, and my present isn’t helping either, what with what happened at Votirlu. With Grantaire. Who still thinks I’m the incarnation of the mothers of all evil, by the way.”

Enjolras considered this. “Well,” he began, reaching behind him and groping for something on the dresser, “I can’t help with your past problems, but I _can_ help with your Grantaire problems.” He grinned as he found what he was looking for - Cosette’s phone. “Ah-ha!”

Cosette glanced at the phone he was holding out to her. “W-what do you want me to do with that?”

“Call him.”

“What? No!”

“Why not?” When Cosette continued to look confused and a little upset, Enjolras sighed. “You need to talk to him. Tell him everything! Explain it was another prank courtesy of Patron-Minette. Just. Look.” He grabbed her hands. “You really like this guy. I can tell. You get all blushy and excited whenever someone says something that sounds a little bit like his name. Jehan literally said they had found a tear in one of their shirts and you nearly gave yourself whiplash looking up. Trust me. _Talk to him!”_ Enjolras pressed the phone into her hand, turned on his heel and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Cosette demanded.

“Gotta wash this stuff out of my hair if I want it to work,” Enjolras said, shrugging.

“Do you need help?” Cosette asked desperately.

“Nope!” Enjolras smiled at her. _“Call him,”_ he repeated, and then he was gone. Cosette sighed, and with a shaking hand, dialled Grantaire’s number. The phone rang once. Twice. He picked up.

_“Hello?”_

“Hey, Grantaire. It’s Cosette.”

_“C-Cosette?”_  Grantaire stuttered. _“Hey, Cosette. Hey. Hi. Hello.”_

“Hi.” Cosette paused, unsure of how to continue. “Um. You remember what happened at Votirlu?”

_“...Yeah?”_

“It turns out…it was just another trick by Babet, Claquesous and Gueulemer. I’m not evil incarnate after all.”

_“You’re…not?”_  Grantaire sounded almost… _disappointed._

“No.”

_“Why would they trick you like that?”_

Cosette sighed. “Because they’re dicks, Grantaire. They get off on other peoples’ misery. It’s what they _do.”_ She paced over to the window. “Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk about. I wanted to talk about… _us.”_

_“Us…?”_ Grantaire sounded worried now.

“Yeah. I just…” Cosette took a deep breath. _Be bold, Cosette!_ “I feel like there’s a really special connection between us. And I… I really like it. You’re really important to me.”

Grantaire sighed. _“Um, well, uh… Listen, I’m sorry, Sette, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later, after the showcase? Bye.”_ He hung up.

Cosette lowered the phone, feeling hurt and confused. She’d really thought he was a decent guy…not at all like the fuck-boys she was used to dealing with on Earth. And it saddened her how similar Grantaire was becoming to those boys. She’d thought, briefly, that there might have been something there… She’d thought there was the possibility of Grantaire liking her back.

 

 

Grantaire sighed as he hung up on Cosette. This _sucked_. He needed advice. Combeferre was good at advice.

“Ferre? You’re smart, I need your help. I’m in big trouble.”

“Trouble?” Combeferre looked understandably worried.

“About Cosette and Céleste,” Grantaire clarified.

“Céleste?”

“The girl I’m supposed to marry,” Grantaire groaned. “I don’t want to marry her. I love Cosette!”

Combeferre nodded. “Well, I’m sure there’s a solution. Have you tried talking to Cosette?”

“I don’t know how to,” Grantaire wailed.

“It’s my opinion that you should tell it to her straight,” Combeferre said. “Tell her everything.”

“You want me to __what?__ ”

Combeferre appeared unruffled at Grantaire’s raised voice. “You can’t draw this situation out forever,” he said sagely. “If you don’t have feelings for Céleste, you should tell Cosette. Tell her you’re engaged to someone else, but you want to break it off. If you don’t give Cosette some kind of explanation, you’re going to lose her.”

Grantaire nodded. “Yeah, you’re right,” he sighed. “But it’s not as simple as just -” He cut himself off, noticing an elbow sticking out from behind the open door, as though someone was leaning against the wall next to it with their arms crossed. He walked over to the door and looked around the frame.

Bahorel was looking back at him, looking a little guilty, but the guilt vanished in a millisecond. “Why do you care so much?” he smirked.  _ _“I__  sure wouldn’t get that worked up over a girl like Cosette.”

“What?” Grantaire said sharply. There was a warning edge to his voice, but Bahorel ignored it.

“The little slut doesn’t deserve half as much attention as she gets,” he continued. “After all, Claquesous told me that Cosette likes to hang out with a _lot_  of different guys -”

Grantaire punched him hard in the stomach. “Don’t you  _dare_ call her that!” he snarled. Bahorel wheezed out in shock, before he swung his kneecap up into Grantaire’s crotch. As the redhead groaned and fell to his knees, Bahorel made to swing a kick at his face, but Grantaire managed to grab the bigger boy’s ankle, pulling him onto the ground with a crash. Combeferre came running out of the room, followed by Prince Marius, and they pulled the fighting boys away from each other.

“Can you two just chill?” Combeferre snapped.

Marius helped Grantaire back onto his feet. “You OK, Grantaire?” he checked. Grantaire still looked winded, but he nodded. Marius turned to Bahorel and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “How about you, Rel?”

Bahorel threw him off with a grunt, and Marius’ eyes narrowed angrily. “You know, since you’ve started seeing Claquesous, you’ve been a real pain!” he snapped. “Can’t you see that she’s just using you? She’s not your friend!”

“Then who are my friends?” Bahorel snapped. “You guys? Yeah, right!” None of the other Wizards noticed the slightly insecure tone to his voice, and it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

“What’s going on here?” The boys turned to see Headmaster Lamarque coming along the corridor. A tall, muscular man with salt-and-pepper hair parted neatly on one side, with bright blue eyes that twinkled sternly, he was simultaneously welcoming and intimidating. “Shouldn’t you boys be getting ready for the exhibition this afternoon?”

Marius, Combeferre and Grantaire all stood to attention. “Yes, sir!” they chorused.

“Bahorel?” Lamarque said sternly.

Bahorel nodded sulkily. “Yes, sir.”

Lamarque nodded. “All of you go and put on your uniforms.”

 

 

In the stadium of the sandstone castle that housed Corinthe College, the stands were slowly filling up. Headmaster Thénardier of Votirlu College entered the royal box and headed down to his seat, which was beside Headmaster Myriel of Musain College. The two teachers awkwardly made eye-contact, and Thénardier sat down, smoothing out his scarlet robes with a flourish.

“I understand you’ve expelled the three young Witches known as Patron-Minette?” Myriel said softly after a moment.

Thénardier nodded mechanically. “A severe but necessary punishment.”

“I agree.”

“Although,” Thénardier sighed, “I _am_  sorry to have lost such gifted students.”

“They’re so young, and yet they’re already mastering the art of Black Magic,” Myriel mused. “They’re dangerous. Someone ought to keep an eye on them.”

“Indeed, but it will be difficult now that they are no longer students.”

 

 

Éponine had decided to take care of her sister for the day. She wasn’t much of a talker, so she instead decided to play Azelma some music on the flute. She had recently mastered a spell to make your sheet music float in front of you as long as you kept playing, and she demonstrated now. However she lost concentration, and the sheet music fell to the floor, when the rest of the Amis barged into her room.

“Cosette’s out of her mind!” Jehan announced, and the blonde girl scowled. “You talk to her.”

“What’s up?” Éponine asked. She perched cross-legged on her bed and rested her chin on her hand.

“She wants to go to the exhibition,” Enjolras announced.

“It’s invitation only, and she doesn’t have an invitation,” Courfeyrac added.

“Why do you want to go?” Éponine inquired.

“I need to talk to Grantaire,” Cosette explained. “He’s been avoiding me. I…” she took a deep breath before confessing. “I kinda sorta told him that I like him, like, more than a friend, and he hung up on me. I need to know what I mean to him, and this might be my only chance to talk to him.”

“Why didn’t you say it was for love in the first place?” Jehan demanded. “I would have backed you up in an instant!” The flower Faery adored romance in all forms.

“We’ll all back you up,” Éponine added. “Right, guys?”

Enjolras and Courfeyrac nodded, and Cosette smiled. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate this so much.”

The Amis headed over to Corinthe Academy right away, sneaking into the castle through a side door. Cosette bid the other Faeries goodbye and went off to find Grantaire, while they headed off to find somewhere to watch the exhibition, which had already begun, starting with a hover-bike riding display. The riders zoomed carefully around the track, occasionally showing off tricks or stunts, and the Amis followed the sound of the tumultuous applause of the crowd.

 

 

Cosette silently padded through the empty corridors of the school. She was rather scared when a group of guards came marching towards her, but they paid her no mind, instead completely focussed on people who could only be royalty: first was a tall, older man with a spectacularly bushy white beard and neat moustache, wearing red velvet robes and a glittering golden crown studded with jewels. On his arm was a red-haired woman in green robes with a silver tiara, and at the back of the party, although Cosette hadn’t noticed her at first, a copper-haired girl in a white-and-burgundy dress and a lilac cloak with a fluffy white lining, talking to someone on a holo-phone - a kind of mobile phone that showed you a hologram of the person you were talking to.

As she squeezed past her, Cosette accidentally stood on the girl’s cloak, tripping them both. The holo-phone landed in front of Cosette, and she glanced at the fuzzy image briefly, then looked again in shock.  _Grantaire?!_

The girl was rubbing her head (but only to be dramatic. She’d landed on her bottom), and she glared at Cosette as she got back to her feet. “You stupid, clumsy tart!” she snapped. “For Dragon’s sake, watch where you’re going, _peasant!”_ Cosette’s eyes widened. Sure, she’d knocked her over, but it had been an accident! She didn’t think the situation called for that level of rudeness. The girl had noticed her staring at the hologram of Grantaire, and she snatched the phone off the ground. “And I absolutely forbid you to look at my boyfriend!” she added, before storming off after the rest of her party.

Cosette continued to sit there in shock. _Boyfriend? No, it couldn’t be…_  She realised what must be happening: it had to be a member of Patron-Minette here to mess with her.

 

 

Her friends, meanwhile, were wandering through the corridors of Corinthe Academy, looking for a way into the stands. Enjolras looked seriously bored, though. “How much longer are we going to be wandering for?” he complained. “I want to see Marius. He was really excited for this exhibition, and I really want to be there to support him.”

Jehan cooed. “Aww, that’s so adorable.”

“I must admit, I was rather hoping to see Combeferre perform,” Courfeyrac agreed. “We were messaging the other day, and apparently he’s been learning how to train dragons! I’d love to see a dragon.”

“And you’d love to see Ferre,” Jehan giggled. Éponine rolled her eyes fondly, and they continued down the corridor.

 

 

Cosette had actually found a way into the stadium - and into the royal box, too! She had gone from being determined to find Grantaire and talk to him about his feelings to being determined to get the copper-haired girl alone and find out which Witch it was disguised as her. Luckily, the girl was seated in the back row near the door, and it was easy for Cosette to pass her a note. She took it and read it quickly. “He wants to see me?”

Cosette nodded. The girl leaned down to the next row, where the dignified man in the golden crown was sitting. “Pardon me, sire, but I must leave for a moment. I will be back shortly.”

The man nodded, and the girl followed Cosette back into the corridor, down the stairs, and through another door into a lower corridor. “So, where is he?” she asked. “He summons me, and yet he’s not here.”

Cosette shut the door with a click. “Cut the crap,” she snapped. “Which one of you am I dealing with today? Babet, Claquesous or Gueulemer? My money’s on Claquesous.”

The girl looked outraged. “How dare you speak to me in that tone?” she snapped. “I am a _Duchess!”_

Cosette’s eyes narrowed. “Alright,” she nodded. “Guess I’ll have to unmask you by force, then. Transform!” In a flash, she was wearing the blue top and skirt of her Faery form, and her white wings poked out of her shoulder-blades. Her body glowed, and she shot a powerful blast at the girl, who threw up her hands to shield her face, before with a shriek she was sent flying through a boarded-up door behind her.

 

 

In the stadium, the hover-bike display was continuing. It was going spectacularly, until a rider with a magenta helmet turned around and flew the wrong way around the track. Two of the other riders, one with a blue helmet and one with a green one, were forced to stop abruptly to avoid crashing into him as he shot between them, and the rider in the blue helmet went flying off his bike.

The green-helmeted rider - Marius - climbed off his bike and ran to help the blue-helmeted rider - Grantaire. He lifted up the visor of his helmet and offered Grantaire a hand up. “Are you OK, Grantaire? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I’m fine,” Grantaire assured him. “Just a few bruises.” The two boys turned to glare at Bahorel, who was wearing the magenta helmet. He lifted his visor up and smirked at them.

“Seriously, Bahorel, you are on my last nerve,” Marius growled.

“Whatever,” Bahorel rolled his eyes.

Combeferre pulled up his own bike. “Seriously you guys, now is not the time to get into a fight!” he quietly admonished them. “We’re about to do the dragon show!”

The Wizards wheeled their bikes out of the stadium; then the doors into the stables opened, allowing four dragons into the arena. They were all Eraklyon mixes; white with brightly-coloured wings and frills, and long slender bodies. They had four slender legs with bird-like feet, and their eyes were dark red.

Grantaire narrowed his eyes, and the four boys approached the dragons carefully.

 

 

The Amis had finally found a way to watch the show: through the door by which the Wizards entered the stadium. Enjolras cracked it open and peered out. “Wow! They’re petting dragons out there! Hey!”

Éponine shoved Enjolras out of the way and peeked out through the crack. “I wanna see a dragon too! …Wow!”

“OK, time’s up!” Courfeyrac said after a second. “My turn!” He nudged Éponine out of the way and took her place. “Aw, cool!”

“Hey, my turn now!” Jehan said excitedly. “Move over!” They squeezed past Courfeyrac and gazed into the stadium with rapt attention.

 

 

Cosette had followed the girl into the room she’d been blasted into, which seemed to be an effects room for the stadium arena. The girl was slowly getting to her feet, glaring at Cosette.

“I don’t know who you are,” she growled, throwing off her cloak, “but if it’s a fight you want… Transform!”

With a flash of orange light, she was wearing a high-collared white top and a orange skirt, with orange knee-high boots and white fingerless gloves. A scarlet-gemmed ring glittered on her right middle finger, matching the gems on her hairband. Five-pronged orange-and-scarlet wings poked out of her shoulder-blades. However, Cosette was not fooled by the Faery-like appearance, and she sent another blast of fire at the girl. Only this time, her adversary fluttered out of the way and ran at her. Cosette flew into the air, but the girl grabbed her ankle.

“Now, tell me what you want!” she demanded, yanking Cosette onto the ground.

“I know you’re a member of Patron-Minette!” Cosette yelled. “I’ll prove it!” She kicked at the girl, sending her flying again.

“I am Duchess Céleste, the fiancée of Prince Marius of Eraklyon!” the girl screamed, getting to her feet. She raised her hands, creating a circle of glowing pink light, and flung it at Cosette. It wrapped around her, pinning her arms to her sides and tightening, trapping her.

Cosette fluttered into the air again and strained at the bonds. In training to become a Faery, she’d become fairly physically strong as well as powerful, and she easily broke the circle of light. It vanished, and she sent two more blasts of fire at the disguised Witch, who created a scarlet shield that absorbed the flames. “Then why were you talking to Grantaire?” she demanded.

The girl ignored her. “Gem Blast!” she screamed, and six scarlet gems manifested in the air. They were each the size of a human face, and they formed a ring around her. She snapped her fingers, and they began shooting blasts of pink light at Cosette, who weaved and dodged them as best she could. When she got the chance, she sent more fire at the girl, who hit the wall with a thud. Her gems were still intact, though, and continued to blast at Cosette. “You little  _ugh!”_ the girl snarled.

 

 

In the arena, the Wizards had successfully bonded with their dragons, and instructed them to fly in a circle around the arena. The way you controlled a dragon after you had bonded with it was to use hand signals to instruct them on what to do, and all four of the boys were absolutely excelling at the course. The dragons stayed perfectly in line.

Bahorel glanced at Grantaire out of the corner of his eyes. “No hard feelings about the, uh, incident earlier, right?” he smirked.

Grantaire smiled serenely. While Bahorel was focussed on his dragon, Grantaire carefully formed a boomerang out of blue flames and threw it precisely into the air. It spun in a circle, and as Grantaire had planned, hit Bahorel in the butt, knocking him over. Following the movements of its bonded Wizard, Bahorel’s dragon fell out of the air too. Grantaire caught the boomerang with a grin.

“None whatsoever.”

“Cool,” Bahorel growled. He got back onto his feet and made a cutting motion with his left arm. His dragon obediently got up and, to the shock of everyone in the stadium, pounced at Grantaire’s dragon, knocking it over and biting at its neck.

“Now that was uncalled for!” Grantaire snapped. He planted his feet firmly on the ground and straightened his arms in front of him, raising his hands and curling his fingers. His own dragon shoved Bahorel’s dragon away from it, and roared loudly. Grantaire changed position, keeping his right arm straightened and making a 90º angle to it with his left arm. His dragon obediently swiped its claws at Bahorel’s dragon, knocking it onto its back. Bahorel looked furious, and both boys instructed their dragons to fly into the air, where they began to swipe and snap at each other. Grantaire’s was knocked out of the air, and Bahorel’s stood over it, preparing to attack again.

Lamarque decided to intervene. He got up from his seat in the royal box and leapt over the barrier, forming a whip from water particles in the air as he landed on the back of the dragon Combeferre had been controlling. He rode it over to the fighting dragons and cracked the whip between them. “Behave!” he instructed the dragons. “Be nice!” The dragons obediently backed away to the edges of the arena, and Lamarque rode his dragon back to the barrier, patting its head before climbing back into his seat.

The Wizards made to continue the display as it had been planned, but something distracted them. A crack was forming in the floor of the arena, sending up clouds of sand. Several more appeared around it, and suddenly an enormous blast shot up, leaving a huge hole in the ground.

As the dust cleared, two female figures could be seen fluttering amidst it, one in blue and one in orange. They were, of course, Cosette and her new enemy, and they didn’t even seem to register that they had broken through the floor of the stadium into the arena.

“So, have you had enough yet?” Cosette snarled.

“No, have you?” the copper-haired girl growled back. Her gem manifestations continued to blast at Cosette, who created a golden shield to protect herself, before shooting fireballs at the gems, destroying them. “You’re crazy!”

Cosette ignored her, and her body glowed with that same intensity that had defeated Patron-Minette in the alleyway and in the forest. Golden light shot towards the other girl, who had no time to avoid it or respond.

With a shriek, the copper-haired girl fell to the ground, defeated. Cosette should have felt victorious, but something was wrong. She glanced up. The entire stadium was staring at her in horror. She looked back at the girl, and to her shock, Grantaire was running to help her up with a cry of “Céleste!”

“Grantaire…?” Cosette began uncertainly.

Grantaire noticed her, and his face slackened in shock. “…Cosette?”

Céleste got to her feet. “Why do you keep calling him ‘Grantaire’?” she demanded. “This is Prince Marius of Eraklyon, heir to the richest kingdom in the Magic Dimension, and my future husband! What is your problem, you b-?”

“Cosette!” Grantaire began desperately, cutting Céleste off, but Cosette didn’t hear him. She’d landed back on the ground and sunk to her knees in shock. Her head was spinning, and she couldn’t see. Grantaire was… _Marius?_

Up in the royal box, the dignified moustachioed man in the bejewelled crown got to his feet. “SQUIRE GRANTAIRE!” he bellowed furiously.

The boy with the dark curly hair that Cosette had known as Prince Marius dashed over to kneel before him. “My liege?”

“You didn’t help my grandson when he was in danger!” the old man blustered. “You have failed as a squire!” The red-haired woman beside him placed a hand on his shoulder. He deflated slightly, but stuck his nose in the air and pulled his robe around himself. “I take my leave!”

From where he was watching from the doorway, Enjolras’ eyes widened and he stumbled back in shock. Marius was Grantaire… he wasn’t a prince… he had _lied_ to him… Half formed ideas of someday holding his hand and introducing him to his parents collapsed into nothing.

Lamarque looked extremely unhappy. “Isn’t the girl in blue one of your students, Myriel?”

Myriel lowered his eyes in shame. “Yes, Lamarque, she is.”

“Well,” Thénardier smirked, “it seems as though it’s not just _my_  students that can behave badly.”

“I am so sorry, Lamarque,” Myriel murmured.

Lamarque tutted sadly. “She has ruined the exhibition. Turned it into an exhibition of quite a different sort.”

Cosette noticed none of this. She was still kneeling on the ground, staring into nothing, feeling the cracks in her heart grow until it shattered completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit.
> 
> If you think this chapter was angsty, I'm just warning you. Things are about to get a whole lot angstier.
> 
> Also, today I made a twat of myself by turning up to the wrong exam - turns out mine isn't for another 3 and a half hours and I walked into the exam for the year below.


	14. In Which Patron-Minette Make Their Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette is humiliated and heartbroken about the Incident at Corinthe, and makes a pretty drastic choice. Patron-Minette finally reveal why they're so interested in her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you thought Chapter 13 was angsty, hoo-boy. Things are about to get a whole lot angstier. Buckle up!

It had been nearly a week since the Corinthe Incident, and Cosette felt no better when it had actually occurred. In fact, if anything, she felt worse, which was why she called a meeting of the Amis the second she found a possible solution.

Enjolras sprinted down the stairs and into the courtyard as fast as his feet could carry him. He was the last of the Amis to arrive; Courfeyrac, Éponine and Jehan were already standing around Cosette. “This better be important, Sette,” he huffed. “I was writing an essay worth 40% of my overall Potionology mark.” He’d been cranky since the Incident too, but he was far less humiliated than Cosette was.

Cosette blinked sadly at him. “It is important,” she murmured. “I’ve made a decision and I need to tell all of you.” She took a deep breath. “I’m dropping out of Musain.”

“ _What?!_ ” the Amis chorused. Cosette nodded.

“All because of some stupid guy?” Éponine asked sadly.

“He humiliated me in front of delegates from pretty much every planet in the dimension,” Cosette whispered. “After I’d already humiliated myself by duelling one of the guests. I don’t care how powerful I am, or whether I discover my past. At least back in Paris, the most humiliating thing that happened to me was in front of a bunch of people I’ll never see again when high school ends.”

Jehan shook their head. “If you’re going to quit just because of one isolated incident –”

Cosette interrupted them. “My mind’s made up.”

Courfeyrac glared fiercely. “You’re not dropping out, Cosette. We won’t let you.”

 

 

True to their word, the Amis kept a close watch on her door for the rest of the day, and the next day. There was no way she could leave without them knowing, as far as they thought.

Cosette sighed unhappily as she peeked out at them; she hated to deceive them. Jehan and Enjolras were reading, Courfeyrac was playing a game on his phone and Éponine was listening to music through her headphones. She was really going to miss them.

She closed the door and turned to face the room. Waving a hand through the air, a burst of golden sparks swirled through the room, folding her clothes and packing her belongings into her case. Cosette tried not to cry as the dress she'd worn to the gala landed in the case. That had been the first time she'd really hung out with Grantaire - or, rather, Prince Marius. Who was engaged. To another girl.

Her things packed, she picked up Wolter, who gazed concernedly up at her. "Come on, Wolter," she whispered to him. "Time to go."

She focused and cast a spell on Yorick, which obligingly picked up her suitcase and Wolter's basket with its vines, and then offered her a seat. The vines carried them out the window and lowered them into the courtyard.

Cosette picked up her case and the basket (which Wolter hopped into), walked calmly to the gates and got on the first bus into town. An hour passed in a blur as she eventually made her way back to the alley where she'd first met Patron-Minette. She closed her eyes on the tears threatening to spill, and focused on her home in Paris.

"Goodbye, Magix," she whispered, before she disappeared.

She didn't notice the glowing orange eyes watching her from across the street.

 

 

"And then she said 'Goodbye, Magix,' and disappeared!" Gueulemer explained to his cousins later that day. They were sitting in  _Hocus Latte_ , the same café outside which they and their former schoolmates had attacked Éponine. Despite having been expelled from Votirlu, the three were still hanging around in Magix City. On the table in front of them was spread various papers and ancient scrolls - Babet and Claquesous had been going through the inheritance they’d received when they’d left school. Babet was fascinated by one document in particular, and he had been reading it in amazement when Gueulemer had arrived with the news.

"Cosette ran away," Claquesous said in astonishment.

"This is too perfect!" Babe grinned. "She'll be an easy target! I think it's high time we paid a trip to Paris..." He carefully returned the document to its folder and finished his drink, eyes glittering with malice.

 

 

In Monsieur Myriel's office, the Amis stared at the ground as their teacher paced. "Cosette's gone," Myriel murmured. "Why didn't you tell me the second you realised she'd left?"

Enjolras spoke up ashamedly. "We thought we'd be able to find her before it got this far, sir."

Myriel sighed and collapsed into his desk chair. For once, his great age showed on his face. "I'm worried. She'll be a target, and she's distracted by the events at Corinthe. Her powers won't be as efficient; strong emotions often effect one’s magical capabilities. I'll send out a search party tomorrow."

 

 

Cosette had arrived back in Paris, and headed straight home. Her father had been completely understanding of the situation, and let her cry into his jumper while he stroked her hair. "It's alright, ma petite-chou," he insisted. "You can start at the local high school next year. It's all going to be fine."

"I feel like I've let everybody down," Cosette sniffled.

Valjean shook his head. "You could never let me down, Cosette."

"I love you, papa."

"I love you too, sweet-pea."

 

 

In the Amis’ living room that night, Enjolras paced in front of the others who were sitting on the couch. Finally Éponine snapped. “Pacing won’t make her come back, Enj! Face it, Cosette is gone forever.”

Enjolras stopped dead. “You’re right about one thing, Ponine. Pacing won’t bring her back. But I can.” He slid his ring off his finger and stared at it in thought. “Myriel’s search team won’t know where to start, but I do. Sette will be at her dad’s house in Paris. I can find her tonight.”

 

 

Cosette walked the streets of Paris with Wolter. He was perched in the basket of her bike, and she was pushing it at her side rather than riding it. Even in the few hours since she’d left Magix, there had been a constant lethargy to her movements. Her eyes weren’t as vividly blue, and her hair seemed to have lost some of its shine. She ran into Rosetta on Hugo Route, and the queen bee was quick to comment on her appearance. “What happened to you, Valjean?” she laughed. “Did your science project blow up on you? Is that why you’re back in Paris, ‘cause the ‘exclusive college for talented kids’ kicked you out?”

“Bonsoir, Rosetta,” Cosette said tiredly. “I didn’t get kicked out. I left on my own.”

“Too hard for you, I suppose,” Rosetta laughed. “You’re such a dimwit that I’m really not surprised.” She got onto her shiny pink scooter, clipped on her helmet and drove off sniggering. Cosette glared angrily after her, and impulsively snapped her fingers.

Rosetta’s shocked scream satisfied her ears. Cosette had excelled at Professor Wizgiz’s unit on making inanimate objects animate, and if her spell had worked correctly, Rosetta would now be riding a very confused pig the same shade of pink as her stupid scooter. Cosette wheeled her bike home, laughing for the first time since the incident at Corinthe.

As she reached her house and locked her bike to the railings, she glanced up at the door – and her blood went cold.

It was open. It wasn’t supposed to be open.

A crash from within jolted her back to her senses. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching before transforming. Signalling to Wolter to stay behind her, she pushed the door all the way open.

“Hello, __Euphrasie!__ ” Babet grinned evilly at her. “We were just passing through and thought we’d stop to visit. Your father’s a great host – I __can__  call him your father, right?” Jean Valjean was gagged and dangling upside down from a thorny vine that had sprouted from a plant pot. The three Witches of Patron-Minette and their ogre were surrounding him, gloating. Babet paced slowly towards her. “Now we’re going to take what rightfully belongs to us!” He turned to Larbin the ogre. “Go on, ogre. She’s all yours.”

The ogre beat his fists against his chest and charged at her. Cosette was knocked off her feet and down the front steps of the house. She got up slowly, wincing, and quickly took to the air, her fists filling with fire. “Up here, dickhead!” she yelled at the ogre. “You’re going to be so sorry that you messed with my father!”

The ogre shrieked as Cosette shot bright golden flames at him, cowering on the ground. Suddenly the air in front of her rippled, and Patron-Minette hovered in front of her, cackling evilly.

“So I guess you would rather deal with _us_ , huh, Euphrasie?” Babet chuckled. “Gueulemer, would you do the honours?”

The violet-haired Witch grinned. “With pleasure!” He shot several bolts of neon green lightening at her. Cosette hurriedly beat her wings and headed higher up in the air to avoid them, turning and leading them away from her house. They were over les Jardins de Luxembourg when Claquesous, bored of chasing her, made a net of indigo magic appear in front of Cosette, who hurriedly turned to avoid it. The Witches closed in on her, Babet shooting several ice darts at her. Cosette closed her eyes and forced a golden energy shield to appear, protecting her from the blades of ice.

Gueulemer held up his hand, and Babet stopped shooting. Cosette allowed her shield to fall, but wished she hadn’t a second later when Gueulemer gave up on magic, grabbed her collar, and tossed her through the air. Babet looked delighted. “Give up yet, Euphrasie?”

Cosette glared, and threw up another energy shield. More green lightening bounced off it, lighting up the sky like a storm was about to hit. Gueulemer looked exhausted, and Babet gritted his teeth angrily. “OK, let’s leave it at that. We’ve got one last card to play.” Claquesous snapped her fingers, and the three of them vanished.

Cosette heaved a deep breath. “One last card to play?” she whispered, then her eyes widened in realization. “My dad!” She turned and flew home as fast as she could.

She gasped when she flew through the front door of her house. Babet was dangling her father, who was still tied up, over a black hole that was emitting a horrid sucking noise. “Not too quick on the draw, are we, Euphrasie?” Babet cackled.

Cosette was shaking in fury. “What do you want from us?” she cried. “What did we ever do to you?”

Gueulemer gave a huff of laughter. “You actually don’t know, do you?” he said in surprise.

“Wave bye-bye to Daddy Dearest,” Babet laughed, and let go of the rope holding Valjean, who gave a muffled yell of horror.

“PAPA!” Cosette screamed, and dived after him into the black hole. She could see a white light at the end of the tunnel, and hurriedly beat her wings to catch up with him before he reached it, because a gut feeling told her that by then it would be too late. Cosette reached and grabbed onto her father seconds before he hit the white light, and half-carried, half-dragged him back out of the hole. She could feel her arm muscles screaming out as they were overworked, but she refused to let go, despite the thorns on the plant-rope making her hands bleed and her wings feeling like they were about to fall off.

She pulled Valjean out of the tunnel, but before she could do anything, she was blasted out of the air by a burst of icy magic. Her father landed behind the sofa, and Cosette got to her knees as quickly as she could, but she was knocked over again by a second blast, this time warmer, but cold in the feeling it gave her. Two more blasts, hot and stinging, hit her in the back, and she could feel her body being thrown about like a rag-doll.

“Give it up, Euphrasie,” Babet cackled. “Your struggling is useless.”

Cosette forced herself onto her hands and knees. “What do you want from me?” she asked through gritted teeth. “And why do you keep calling me that?!”

Babet surveyed her through his lashes, looking down on her exhausted, shaking body. “We’re here for your power,” he said, slowly and clearly. “The power of the Dragon Flame. When the Great Dragon created the Magic Dimension centuries ago, it made its home on the lushest planet of all - Domino. When it vanished, there was still some residue of its magic, which latched itself onto an inhabitant of the planet, Blodwyn, who became the queen and the first Faery of the Dragon Flame- the greatest power in the universe. The power was passed down through her descendants. And fifteen years ago, our ancestors, the three Ancestral Witches, sought out the protector of the Dragon Flame , discovering it to be you, or as you were known then, Princess Euphrasie of Domino. They intended to kill you and take it for their own - after all, you were an infant and an illegitimate heir. No one knew about you, and no one would miss you. But then that meddler, your insufferable mother, Queen Fantine -”

“Fantine… is my _mother?!_ ” Cosette whispered in shock. “I’m…a… _princess?!_ ”

“Try to keep up, OK, Princess?” Babet snapped. “She sent you here to Paris to protect you. So, for daring to interfere, they… _got rid_  of her, and destroyed Domino for good measure. And now, we’re here to take what rightfully belongs to us: the Dragon Flame! And you can’t stop us!” He snapped his fingers, and Claquesous and Gueulemer appeared on either side of him, flanking him.

Cosette shakily got to her feet. “I can try!” she bit out.

“Oh yeah?” Babet blasted ice at her, forcing her off her feet and pinning her against the wall, arms outstretched, her entire body encased in ice save her head, neck and upper torso. “You are the Guardian Faery of the greatest power in the known universe!” he spat, but a ghastly smirk quickly came over his face. “ _Were_ , that is. Ready?”

Babet, Claquesous and Gueulemer each pressed their hands together as though in prayer, and prized them apart slowly. In front of each Witch there was now a tiny bottle. Gueulemer’s was green, and crackled with electricity. Claquesous’ was purple, and shifted shape as easily as if it were made from smoke. And Babet’s was pale blue, a delicate crystal vial with sharp edges. “And now, cousins,” Babet cackled, “we will take Cosette’s power!”

The three Witches raised their hands, levitating the bottles into the air. “VACUUMS!” they screamed.

Cosette screamed too. Her chest was burning, and she closed her eyes against it, but a tearing feeling made her open them again in horror. A glowing streak of gold was being pulled from her heart, separating into three portions and filling the little bottles. The burning, tearing sensation seemed to go on forever, until finally it stopped. The bottles were full.

“The Dragon Flame is ours,” Babet whispered in wonderment. “At last!” He turned to his cousins. “Claq, ‘Mer? I think we can go.” They vanished in a cloud of violet smoke, and with them so did the ice pinning Cosette to the wall. She fell to the floor, too weak to support herself.

“They took it,” she whispered in realisation. “Patron-Minette took the Dragon Flame!”


	15. In Which A War Is Begun With A Skirmish And Two Battles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patron-Minette have the Dragon Flame, and reveal what they intend to use it for, while Cosette deals with the loss of her powers and Bahorel gets a wakeup call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter, and some serious shit goes down. Enjoy!!

Cosette’s head felt fuzzy, and she slowly blinked her eyes open. Valjean was gazing down at her worriedly. “Papa,” she murmured.

“Cosette, sweetheart,” Valjean whispered, and Cosette realised that he was cradling her in his arms as though she were a baby again. She sat up and took a deep breath, shuddering as she blew out.

Suddenly, the air next to them warped and glowed, and Cosette’s entire body tensed up in fright.  _ _They we__ _ _re ba__ _ _ck!__

The glow was different though - it was golden rather than purple, and it turned into a portal, through which stepped none other than -

“Enjolras!” Cosette gasped in relief.

“Cosette!” Enjolras said relievedly. Then his eyes widened. “What’s wrong?! You look like you’re about to be sick!”

“Patron-Minette,” Cosette whispered. “They followed me here, and they attacked us.” Enjolras knelt down next to her, and put a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re crying,” he whispered. “What have they done to you?!”

“They were so strong,” Cosette shuddered. “They… they took my powers.”

Enjolras’ eyes widened in horror. Valjean wrapped his arms around Cosette again until she stopped crying.

“Cosette, please come back to Musain,” Enjolras said. He looked like he was near tears himself. Wolter skipped into the living room, and Enjolras picked him up, petting the little bunny.

“Enjolras is right, chou,” Valjean agreed. “I’m sure there will be someone there who can sort this out.”

Cosette nodded slowly. “Love you, Papa,” she mumbled, before turning to Enjolras. “You’re right. I haven’t unpacked yet, I’ll grab my suitcase and I’ll go back to Musain with you.” Enjolras looked relieved, and she ran upstairs to grab the battered pink suitcase along with Wolter’s basket.

When she came back down, Enjolras opened the portal with his sceptre and they entered the familiar tunnel of sunlight. Neither them nor Wolter were laughing this time, though. They landed just outside the gates of the castle, and Enjolras picked up Cosette’s suitcase for her, wrapping his other arm around her shoulders.

It was still dark outside, and they quietly headed across the courtyard, up the stairs and into their apartment. As Enjolras shut the door behind them with a click, Jehan’s door opened, and the redhead leaned out, blinking with bleary eyes. They padded into the living space and flicked on the main light.

“Cosette!” they gasped, dashing over to her and embracing her. “You’re back! We were so worried!”

Éponine and Courfeyrac had been roused by the noise, and came out to see what was happening. When they saw Cosette, they too embraced her.

“I’m so happy to see all of you again,” Cosette said huskily.

“You don’t look very happy,” Éponine said worriedly. “What happened to you?”

“Indeed,” another voice said, and the Amis turned to see Javert standing in the doorway wearing a night cap, with his arms folded across his dressing gown. “That’s what Headmaster Myriel wants to know. Miss Cosette, you are to come with me to his office immediately.”

Cosette nodded and followed him, waving goodbye to the Amis. Headmaster Myriel was wearing a white dressing gown and fluffy matching slippers, but he had a serious expression on his face. Cosette sat down in the chair opposite his desk, and Javert stood to one side, pouring hot milk into a cup, which he handed to her.

“Here, drink it while it’s hot,” he said. “It will do you good.”

“Thank you, sir,” Cosette said gratefully. She took a sip, and immediately felt a little better.

“Alright then,” Myriel said softly. “Would you like to tell me what happened, Cosette?”

“I… I decided to leave Musain,” Cosette admitted. “I went back home to Paris.”

“Oh, Cosette,” Myriel murmured sadly.

“And… the three Witches who call themselves Patron-Minette followed me,” Cosette continued. “And they told me who I really am.” She looked up at him, tears pooling in her eyes again. “When we were in Lake Roccaluce, Fantine showed me a crown. I wasn’t sure what it meant then, but Patron-Minette explained things for me. Queen Fantine was my birth mother. I am Princess Euphrasie, her illegitimate heir and the last survivor of Domino.” Myriel and Javert both gasped.

Cosette’s shoulders shook, and she drained the cup before she could continue. “And… after they told me about my mother, they used a powerful spell, and they… they… they _took_ my powers. They took the Dragon Flame!”

Myriel’s mouth fell open. “Cosette… this is very grave news,” he said. “The Dragon Flame is one of the Great Powers of the magic dimension. I suspected Fantine might have had an heir to whom she had passed the power, as she would likely not have disappeared if she had possessed the Dragon Flame.”

“You suspected?” Cosette gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was hoping you would have time to find out for yourself,” Myriel said sadly. “I didn’t want to jump to conclusions either. Sometimes the search for the truth is more important than the truth itself.”

“But now, Babet, Claquesous and Gueulemer control the Dragon Flame,” Cosette whispered. “They’re no mere Witches, sir. A strange light shines in their eyes. They’re insane, sir - even more insane than their ancestors, the three Ancestral Witches who destroyed Domino and killed Queen Fantine.”

Myriel got up and began to pace. “This doesn’t bode well for Magix,” he murmured. “Even the Witches won’t be safe from Patron-Minette. None of us are.”

 

 

The cafeteria of the castle that housed Votirlu College for Witches was a tall, cylindrical room in one of the larger towers. A wide spiral staircase ran up the walls, with platforms for tables branching off every ten steps or so, and at the very top was the teachers’ table. The Witches had just sat down to breakfast, when the doors clanged open, bouncing off the walls, and everyone turned away from their Black Magic Witch-hazel tea and croissants to stare at the latecomers - but no one was expecting them to be who they were.

It was Patron-Minette, in full Witch regalia, smirking up at the room. At the teachers’ table on the top platform, Headmaster Thénardier got to his feet and glared down at the three with, if possible, even more rage than he’d had when he expelled them. They, surprisingly, appeared unaffected, and stepped further into the room. Babet’s duckling, Ravageur, followed them with a quack, as did Larbin the ogre, to the terror of the students - most of whom had never seen an ogre in person before. Ravageur tripped over his flippers, and Larbin lifted him up off the floor.

As the three Witches moved further into the room, Thénardier’s eyes flashed. “How dare the three of you re-enter these hallowed halls?! I meant it when I said you were expelled forever!” He raised his hands, shooting beams of vivid red light at them.

Babet snapped his fingers, and a crystal dome manifested around Patron-Minette, absorbing Thénardier’s spell before shattering. The shattered pieces of the dome zoomed up at the Headmaster, knocking him off his feet and into the table, which broke in two. Two of his fellow teachers, Zarathustra and Viridium, helped him to his feet, and Viridium glared down at Patron-Minette.

“Your behaviour is unacceptable!” he raged.

Gueulemer cackled delightedly. “And what are you gonna do about it? Give us detention?” He clenched his fist, and his eyes glowed scarlet. Green light surrounded him, and he touched his hand to the ground. An enormous twister appeared, as tall as the ceiling, and it sucked all of the students and teachers except Thénardier into it before vanishing. The Witches fell to earth with terrified screams, and Thénardier leapt into action - literally leapt. Surrounded by the scarlet glow of his magic, he fell through the air and vanished the falling Witches so that they reappeared on the ground unharmed. When everyone was safe, he himself vanished and reappeared behind Patron-Minette.

Thénardier allowed a glowing ball of light to appear between his palms, and when it was big enough he threw it at Patron-Minette. It should have trapped them inside, but Claquesous turned and caught it as easily as if it were a volleyball. Thénardier looked shocked, and the Witch of Darkness shrank the ball between her hands until it was the size of a marble. She crushed it between her finger and thumb with a smirk.

Babet raised his own hand, and his eyes glowed the same colour as Gueulemer’s had before a flurry of ice shards shot from his palm. Thénardier was thrown against the wall and frozen to it the same way Cosette had been when Patron-Minette had attacked her in Paris.

Babet paced over to him and squeezed the man’s face into a duck-pout, forcing the normally formidable-looking teacher into a very silly expression. “In case you haven’t got it yet, Headmaster,” he smirked, “we’re in charge now.”

Claquesous looked around at the shaking, terrified student Witches surrounding them. “Witches of Votirlu,” she began. “We are about to put into effect several changes at this school.”

“And if you don’t like them,” Gueulemer added sarcastically, “please let us know. We’re open to criticism!” All three members of Patron-Minette burst into laughter. It was so cold and cruel that even Larbin and Revegeur shook at it, and it echoed through the halls of the castle - even the places no one, besides perhaps Headmaster Thénardier, knew of the existence of.

They made the students gather in the main hall, and Claquesous used a cloning spell to create two more thrones on the stage. As the Witches watched in horror, Patron-Minette sat down and gazed up at them with cold smiles.

Claquesous had used the same capture spell on all the teachers who had been present, and hovered their bubble-prisons above the stage so everyone could see them. Babet smirked up at them.

“Thénardier,” he grinned, “you, your staff, and your students have just earned yourselves a nice vacation in the damp, smelly, mould-infested prison cells up in the attic of this castle.” He pretended to be surprised by Thénardier’s look of fury. “What, you’re not happy? How ungrateful!”

“You wretched harpies,” Thénardier snarled.

“If you think you’re going to get away with this, you’re wrong!” Professor Zarathustra shrieked.

Babet sniggered. “Oh, yes, we all saw how you’re going to stop us. It was very impressive.”

“You’re making a big mistake,” Thénardier hissed. “You’re insane!”

Babet’s eyes flashed coldly. “Oh really?” he snarled. “Well, I _dare_ you to say that again, Headmaster.”

“All mad, all of you,” Thénardier whispered.

Gueulemer grinned up at the imprisoned teachers and the terrified students. “Now, you’re going to all go up to the prison cells, while we three go down to the castle crypt, where only the most dangerous spells are kept,” he grinned. “Then we’re going to call forth the Army of Darkness!”

“You can’t!” Thénardier yelled. “No one has _ever_  been able to call forth the Army of Darkness! They will cause total destruction!”

Babet leaned forward in his throne. “Couldn’t have put it better myself, Professor.”

 

 

With students and teachers alike safely locked in the grimmest of the cells in the attic, Patron-Minette headed down to the basement of the castle. Gueulemer blasted open the huge set of stone doors that led to the crypt, and the three Witches entered the crypt with expressions of awe - no student had ever been there before. Seven corridors led off the main chamber, and the three entered the first on the left - the Wrath Chamber. Bookshelves full of books lined the walls; books containing some of the most destructive spells in the entire universe. Claquesous paused to look at some of the titles, but Babet and Gueulemer headed straight for the plinth in the centre of the room.

The top of the plinth was covered by a clear dome, which Babet froze and shattered, freeing the book within. It was an ancient leather-bound tome with a carving of a twisted, monstrous face on the cover, and it was eerily glowing with evil magic.

Babet grinned. “The Army of Darkness will be under our command.” He and his cousins burst out laughing once again, almost overwhelmed at the amount of power they now had access to.

 

 

Myriel, meanwhile, had got in contact with Lamarque and informed him of what had happened. Lamarque didn’t look as worried as Myriel had expected, however.

“Why are you so worried?” Lamarque asked. “These three Witches are hardly proficient yet. They certainly won’t know how to use the power of the Dragon Flame.”

“Perhaps not,” Myriel sighed, “but what they lack in experience they make up for in power and ruthlessness.”

Lamarque nodded thoughtfully. “I trust your instinct, Myriel. I’ll put Corinthe on Alert.” He ended the call, and Myriel leaned back in his chair. Wizgiz, who was stood next to him, tapped his shoulder.

“And what about Headmaster Thénardier?” he asked. “What does he have to say?”

Myriel looked even more troubled. “No one is answering at Votirlu, and that worries me,” he sighed. “However, we cannot make any assumptions as to his whereabouts at the moment.”

 

 

In the room she shared with Jehan, Cosette was lying despondently on her bed. Enjolras, Jehan, Éponine and Courfeyrac sat around her, and Wolter sat in his basket, gnawing a carrot and gazing worriedly up at his mistress.

Courfeyrac was soothingly stroking Cosette’s hair, and she leaned into the touch. “I’m a mess,” she groaned. “I was unable to use my powers when I needed them most, and now the whole Magic Dimension is in serious jeopardy.” Wolter hopped up onto the bed and snuggled against her, and she petted him listlessly. “And there’s nothing I can do about it,” she continued. “I mean, I’ve lost my powers. I’m not a Faery. I’m not _anything_  anymore.”

On the bedside table, Cosette’s phone (which Courfeyrac had updated to work in Magix) blasted out part of the chorus of Aly&AJ’s cover of _Do You Believe In Magic?_  and Enjolras, who was nearest, picked it up and answered the incoming call when Cosette showed no sign of moving.

 _“Hi, Cosette?”_ It was Prince Marius - the real Prince Marius.

“It’s Enjolras,” Enjolras said coolly.

 _“Oh. Hi, Enjolras.”_ Marius sounded genuinely terrified - damn right. _“May I speak to Cosette?”_

“Not right now,” Enjolras replied. “She’s kind of busy.”

_“Oh. Um, no problem. I can wait. Would it be easier if I called back later?”_

“Sorry, _Marius_ , but Cosette can’t talk to you.”

 _“Oh. OK. Um, bye then.”_  Marius hung up.

Enjolras sighed and squeezed Cosette’s hand comfortingly.

 

 

At Corinthe, Marius leaned against the wall of the castle and stared at his phone miserably. Cosette didn’t want to talk to him - and the worst part was, he knew he deserved it. He’d hurt her hugely by deceiving her, and now it was understandable if she never wanted to see him again.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though.

Marius shoved his phone into his pocket and began walking unhappily back to the apartment he shared with Grantaire, Combeferre and Bahorel. He hadn’t noticed Bahorel across the hall kneeling down to fix his backpack.

Bahorel’s backpack was completely fine, and he’d been using it as an excuse to listen avidly to Marius’ conversation. He swung the bag onto his back with a smirk. Claquesous would be delighted to here that Marius had been rejected by his little Faery.

The psychic connection between the two had grown weak, and Bahorel actually had to see her in person if he wanted to tell her anything - texts were too risky. He was to simply let her know if he had information, and she would give him a meeting place.

 **B:**   _I have news for you._

 **C:** _Come to Votirlu. Fly around outside until you find me. I’ll be waiting at an open window._

Bahorel borrowed one of the school hover-bikes and headed off to Votirlu. When he got there, he flew around the castle until he saw his girlfriend waving at him from an open window - oddly enough, it was an open panel at the bottom of a huge window.

“Bahorel! Down here!” Claquesous called. He parked the hover-bike in mid-air and hopped down into the room. Babet and Gueulemer were waiting within, Babet in an enormous throne-like chair and Gueulemer sitting on a mammoth desk in front of it, fiddling with a crystal ball. Claquesous was leaning against an enormous bookshelf full of ancient books, but now she pushed off the wall, walking towards him with a smirk.

Bahorel realised what room of the castle they were in. “What’s going on here?” he demanded. “Since when does Thénardier let you use his office?”

The three Witches burst into laughter. “Since we took it from him!” Gueulemer cackled.

“What do you mean?” Bahorel snapped. The Witches continued to laugh. “Claquesous, what’s going on here?”

Claquesous didn’t reply, but Gueulemer did. “Oh, Bahorel,” he sighed, hopping off the desk, “you’re still in the dark, aren’t you?” He dragged a sharpened fingernail down Bahorel’s face, leaving a surprisingly deep scratch.Bahorel backed away slowly. His eyes widened when Gueulemer took to the air, along with Claquesous and Babet, and the three Witches began circling around him, their eyes glowing scarlet. “Well, rest assured,” Gueulemer continued, “we couldn’t have done it without your help!”

“Your spying skills made all the difference in our power-struggle with the Faeries!” Babet added.

Bahorel took a step backwards. “You were using me!” he realised. “You tricked me! _You_  turned me and my friends against each other!”

Claquesous smirked. “What friends, Bahorel?” she laughed. “Sphere Of Oblivion!” She shot violet magic at him, and suddenly the world went black, except for the three Witches, who were now towering over him.

Bahorel made to summon a rock-sword, but he couldn’t - Claquesous’ magic prevented him from using his powers. She grinned down at him. “Consider this a break-up, _Sweetheart_.” She shot another spell at him, and he collapsed, unconscious.

 

 

After locking Bahorel safely in a cell opposite the one containing the teachers and students, Patron-Minette headed back to Thénardier’s office and summoned their Vacuums. It was time to complete the ritual.

The three Witches each took their bottle and strung it around their neck before sitting in a circle and joining hands, focussing on becoming one with the Dragon Flame. A golden glow surrounded their bodies, and they closed their eyes. When the glow vanished, they continued to sit there.

 “The power we’ve been searching for for so long is now ours,” Babet said softly. “We’ve begun our conquest here, at Votirlu. Next we take Corinthe, then Musain, and then the whole Magic Dimension.”

“At last,” Gueulemer hissed.

“Let’s not be rash, Mer,” Babet cautioned. He opened his eyes, and in the centre of their circle, a ball of white light formed. The Book they had taken from the crypt glowed even more intensely. It was time to summon their army. “Today, the Wizards and the Faeries will get a taste of what we’re capable of! _Rise up, creatures of the dark! As your rulers, we command it!_ ” The ball of light shot up and out of the window, into the sky.

Outside, it began to rain - but not just ordinary rain. It seemed to be made of black water, and it poured with increasing intensity, hitting the ground in silence. Where puddles formed, tiny creatures appeared. They had maroon banana-shaped bodies of about six inches in length, and six normal legs with two pincered arms at the front. They had no eyes, and they made an odd, shrill, shrieking noise. They were called Scrapers.

They began to march up to the castle en masse, and entered through the front doors, storming through the halls to find the ones who had summoned them. Larbin, with Ravageur on his shoulder, nearly tripped over the little beasts, and backed away slowly. When they continued marching towards him, he turned and ran.

Outside, some of the Scrapers began moulding their bodies together to create even bigger monsters - most were about 10 feet tall, with lobster pincer-like arms and long feet, and elongated faces with scarlet eyes. Their nose and mouth was replaced with a hollow snout from which eight scarlet tentacles with forked ends protruded, tasting the air. They were called Decay Soldiers.

Perhaps even more terrifying, if not quite as grotesque, were the Decay Fighters - 15 feet tall and headless, with muscular torsos and block-like legs and feet. Their arms were like those of a gorilla, and they walked with their knuckles dragging on the ground.

As if these behemoths weren’t horrifying enough, the Scrapers began forming Manta Flyers - winged creatures with flat bodies and tusk-filled mouths, with two long appendages hanging from their undersides and long snaky tails - which soared around the towers of the castle on their wide slimy wings.

The monsters began grouping up into squadrons, facing the balcony of the school, from which Patron-Minette grinned down at them. “So, what do you think of our army, Claq, Mer?” Babet smirked.

 

 

At Musain, the same dark storm clouds began forming above the castle. Courfeyrac got up off the sofa the Amis had relocated to and paced over to the window looking out to the balcony. “Hey, it’s about to rain,” he commented.

The same black water began pouring onto the lawns of Musain’s courtyard, and the Faeries who had been out enjoying the weather hurriedly dashed for cover, not noticing the Scrapers which had begun manifesting on the ground. As the last Faery made it inside, the scrapers began creeping up the steps and the walls. They made it to the Amis’ balcony and began crawling up the window. Enjolras, who had joined Courfeyrac, shrieked, and with a burst of golden light, the window shattered.

“Shit!” Enjolras groaned. “Sorry, it was pure reflex!” The Scrapers began crawling through into the room, and the Amis backed away hurriedly. Professor Palladium flung open the door.

“Hurry, we need to get out of here!” he said urgently. “The school is under attack!” The Amis followed him into the corridor, and Éponine slammed the door behind them.

Outside, the Scrapers had made it up the turret-roofed tower, and some were crawling out of the wishing well too. The other students were dashing about in a panic when the Amis reached the courtyard, and Courfeyrac shuddered. “Come on, we’ve got to fight back!”

“Stamp these critters back to where they came from,” Éponine agreed, squishing a Scraper that had got too close beneath her boot.

Cosette sighed sadly. “I’m sorry, I won’t be much help without my powers.”

Enjolras patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Sette,” he assured her. “We’ll protect you.”

“Transform!” the Amis, bar Cosette, chorused, and in a flash they were in their Faery forms. Enjolras summoned his sceptre, and swung it back like a baseball bat, batting sun magic towards the creatures, sending hundreds of Scrapers flying. Éponine summoned a ball of light that shot blasts of her magenta light at the creatures, and Jehan flung blasts at the ground, causing huge Venus Flytraps to spring up and gobble up tons of Scrapers before vanishing.

Cosette, who was sheltering under the awning, noticed a Scraper pinching at Wolter, and she kicked at it furiously. Wolter leapt into her arms, and she groaned at the feeling of the squished scraper on her open-toed shoe. “I may have lost my powers, but there’s no way I’m losing you, Wolter,” she told the bunny, who cuddled against her.

A ghastly shrieking noise from above her diverted her attention, and she turned with horror to see a Decay Soldier towering over her. With a scream she ran from it, and the beast chased her.

Another Decay Soldier had formed behind Éponine, and she turned to face it, looking terrified. In the air, Courfeyrac shouted, “Computer Bug!” and flung a bright green dark at the Decay Soldier. It hit the creature in the head, and beeped once before exploding and blowing the creature up with it. Éponine shuddered as Scrapers rained down upon her.

Cosette had reached a dead end, and she screamed as the Decay Soldier advanced, reaching its horrible tentacles towards her face. But suddenly, with a blast of golden light and the flash of a blade, it was cut in two, and the Scrapers fell to earth. Cosette looked around for her saviour, and it was Palladium. The sword had returned to him before vanishing.

“Are you OK, Cosette?” he checked, before diving back into what was rapidly becoming an incredibly destructive battle. Professor Wizgiz had transformed himself into what looked like an enormous Triceratops, and was stomping on the Scrapers with feet that had the diameter of good-sized hulahoops. Faeries on the ground and in the air alike were blasting the creatures with magic, but Javert broke away from the battle to head to Headmaster Myriel’s study.

“They’ve swarmed the east wing,” he informed him. “And they’re heading for the laboratories.”

Myriel turned to the hologram of Lamarque from his holo-phone. “Did you hear that, Lamarque? They’ve taken over Musain!”

“The situation here at Corinthe isn’t much better,” Lamarque said grimly. “You must excuse me; I need to go and help my students.” He ended the call, and Myriel followed Javert out to the battle.

 

 

Indeed, Corinthe College was also under attack. The young Wizards were fighting hard, but with every new storm cloud came a new battalion of monsters, and it was becoming difficult to see through the black rain. In the centre of the battle, Combeferre took down a Decay Soldier with three Air Darts, and blew the smoke from the tip of his gun like a cowboy in a Wild West movie. Grantaire, not to be outdone, took down three with a double-ended water-blade. Prince Marius, meanwhile, was fiercely fighting his own Decay Soldier, and sliced through it with his fire-blade. With his opponent destroyed, he once again formed a boomerang from blue flames, and flung it into the battle. It took out three Decay Soldiers before returning to him, and he allowed it to vanish before resuming the fight with a new monster. Lamarque leapt from the battlements into the battle, brandishing the same whip he’d used to tame the dragons, and took out five monsters before he’d even hit the ground.

As the battle raged on, a cubic airship appeared over the castle, and a panel on the side opened, allowing three Eraklyon soldiers to begin shooting down at the monsters, sending thousands of Scrapers flying. When enough had been destroyed, Duchess Céleste leaned out and threw down a rope ladder, which swung in the air before reaching Marius.

“Prince Marius, we’ve come to get you!” she called down to the red-haired Prince.

Marius squinted up at her. “What?”

“We’ve come to get you out of here!” Céleste yelled down. “You must save yourself, my prince!”

Marius formed a shield, and used it to push a Decay Soldier onto its back before stabbing it. “We’re fighting to save the Magic Dimension! My place is here!” he informed her.

Céleste shook her head. “Don’t be silly! You’re a prince! Let these peasants fight for you!” Marius glared up at her. “Well, what are you waiting for? Your duty is to rule!”

With a defiant scowl, Marius swung his sword through the ladder, and the end of it fell to the floor. Céleste looked furious, and stomped back into the airship. The soldiers stood back, and the panel slid shut before the airship took off, vanishing amidst the storm clouds. Marius leapt back into the centre of the battle.

 

 

On the balcony at Votirlu, Babet lounged against the railings. “It’s time to call a halt to the fighting,” he informed his cousins. “Call back the creatures of the dark.” As the creatures began returning to Votirlu, Babet chuckled to himself. “The Magic Dimension is now ready to hear our demands!”


	16. In Which Myriel Has An Idea And Larbin Makes A Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myriel suggests a way for Cosette to regain some form of connection to her powers, while Patron-Minette reveal that they are capable of so much more than what they showed off last chapter...

In the office that had formerly belonged to Headmaster Thénardier, Patron-Minette were using the holo-phone on the desk to send their message to Myriel and Lamarque, who were both in Myriel’s office. “Your pathetic little magic schools shall cease to exist,” Babet informed them. “We have complete power, and we will stop at nothing to gain complete control of the Magic Dimension! You have twelve hours to surrender, or face total annihilation. Resistance is futile.” With a cackle, he ended the call, and Myriel turned to Lamarque.

“They’re completely insane.”

“Indeed,” Lamarque nodded. “They are exactly like their ancestors.”

“Except,” Myriel said thoughtfully, “their ancestors could _never_  have obtained the power of the Dragon Flame.”

“We need to work together to defeat them,” Lamarque said. “I’ll go back to Corinthe to organise a defence strategy. We need to work quickly!” He left the office, and teleported himself back to his own.

 

 

On the largest balcony of Votirlu, Claquesous was surrounded by Scrapers, and she was cooing delightedly at them. “My sweet, itsy-bitsy babies,” she giggled. “You’ve come back to Mama! What is it, my little urchins? Wanna play?”

From where he was watching in the doorway, Larbin backed away slowly. “I don’t like this, Ravageur,” he told the duckling, who was shivering in the palm of his hand. “This is no place for us anymore.” He headed back into the school and down into the tunnels Patron-Minette had used to hide him various times. Hopefully he could find a way out of Votirlu without the three insane Witches coming after him.

 

 

Headmaster Myriel had called the Amis into his office, and they stood in a semicircle in front of his desk, listening with rapt attention. “Patron-Minette is planning an attack against us,” he informed them. “They’re doing what their ancestors did. Back then, they had seriously jeopardised the Dimension’s balance of power, and now a new generation of Witches have taken up the fight - and they possess a weapon that their ancestors did not: Cosette’s powers, making them damn near invincible.”

The Faeries’ eyes widened at the sound of their Headmaster, normally so sweet-natured and polite, swearing, but he continued speaking as though nothing was amiss. “Cosette, listen carefully. At this point in time, the only thing you can do is to go back to Domino.”

“Domino?” Cosette asked with wide eyes. “Why?”

“Because it was their ancestors who destroyed your birthplace, and I believe that in what remains of the royal palace, there might be some… _clue_ , some _sign_ , some _instruction_  as to how to regain what they have taken from you. Remember, your birthplace is also the Great Dragon’s resting place, and a connection like that is incredibly powerful. Cosette, you may be our only hope.”

“And we’ll go with you,” Éponine added.

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “As if we’d let you go alone.”

Cosette nodded and took a deep breath. She could do this.

 

 

They gathered in the simulator, and Fauchelevent and Myriel stood watching them from the window. “Alright, I believe we’re ready to begin,” Fauchelevent nodded. He pressed a button on the control panel, and a ball of light appeared in front of each of the Amis. “I’ve done a complete overhaul of the system, and in a few seconds, the simulator will create a multidimensional corridor, which will take you directly to Domino.” The balls of light hovered over the Amis’ heads, and in a flash, they were all wearing snowsuits.

“Um, not that I’m not loving the look,” Courfeyrac called up to the teachers, “but why is a snowsuit necessary?”

“Since Domino was destroyed, it has become a frozen wasteland,” Myriel informed him. The snow storms are temperamental, and the temperature can drop to nearly -49º Fahrenheit, or -45º Celsius.”

“And remember,” Fauchelevent added, “this time it’s not a simulation. This time, it’s for real, so concentrate, relax, and stay focussed. I wish you all the best of luck.” He pressed the start button, and the five were surrounded by a glowing white light. The corridor had opened.

With a flash, the corridor closed again, taking the Amis with it. Fauchelevent turned to Myriel. “Our fate is in their hands now.”

 

 

The corridor ended , and the Amis found themselves in the middle of - as Myriel had described - a frozen wasteland. It was snowing heavily, and all that was visible on the horizons were enormous white shapes that might have been buildings, mountains or snowdrifts for all they knew. Cosette took the lead, and they began to crunch across the plain. It was indeed freezing, and the little skin they had exposed soon went numb. They knew they had to find the royal palace quickly, or else they might freeze to death.

They had been walking for half-an-hour, but for all they knew it could have been days. The snowy desert stretched on forever until they reached a bridge formed of ice, with icicles hanging off its underside. It was a slippery journey over, with a huge chasm underneath, but they all made it, and found themselves in yet another desert. Cosette groaned and spoke for the first time.

“If only I had my powers, I could melt all of this in an instant.”

“Don’t worry, Sette,” Courfeyrac assured her. “I don’t think we’ve got that much further to go. I’ve analysed the topography of the region.” He flattened his palm, and a holographic map appeared, showing the mountains of the planet. He pointed to an oddly flat valley. “See that flat bit? I reckon that’s the foundation of the royal palace.”

Cosette threw her arms around him as the map disappeared. “Aw, Courf! You’re so great!” Courfeyrac grinned and hugged her back, and they continued on.

 

 

At Votirlu, Patron-Minette stood in a circle in Thénardier’s office, conjuring a glowing ball of light from which a low humming noise was being emitted. They had been spying on the Faeries with the crystal ball in the office, and knew they had gone to Domino - although they didn’t know why, and they had decided to leave the Amis a little welcome gift.

 

 

On Domino, Jehan squinted against the wind. “The climate’s totally off kilter,” they exclaimed. “Mother Nature is _not_  happy!”

“I know!” Éponine agreed. “The wind doesn’t sound right. It’s full of anger.”

They pressed on, despite the intensity of the wind and the noticeable drop in temperature. As the snow thickened, it became very difficult to see even despite the goggles that came with the snowsuits, and the Amis held their arms up in front of their faces to try and block the worst of it.

 

 

At Corinthe, Lamarque had an unusual pair of visitors in his office: Larbin and Ravageur. He narrowed his eyes at the two of them. “You had better have a good reason for being here, Larbin,” he said when the ogre had introduced himself. “This had better not be some sort of battle strategy of Patron-Minette.”

“Oh, no, Lamarque!” Larbin assured him. “Those Witches have gone completely nuts! We had to get out of there. We’re scared, we need your help. Please?” The duckling quacked in agreement.

“Can I trust you?” Lamarque asked.

“Yes, absolutely!” Larbin said, nearly begging. “We’re on your side now! Babet, Claquesous and Gueulemer are mega-ultra-bad news! They’ll never forgive us for deserting them!”

Suddenly, the office was filled with bright violet light, and Lamarque and Larbin turned to see a projection of Patron-Minette appearing.

Babet cleared his throat. _“Lamarque. You surprise me. I didn’t know you like to entertain **traitors!** ” _All three projections cackled, before Claquesous narrowed her eyes at Larbin.

 _“You’ve chosen to side with the enemy, haven’t you?”_ she said coldly. _“Obviously you must have a death wish, Larbin!”_

Lamarque looked furious. “Get out of my office, you crazy Witches!” he snarled, and blasted them with golden light. The projections vanished, but the unease stayed.

 

 

As the sun rose over Magix, Lamarque organised his students into battalions, and addressed them from his balcony. “Young Wizards,” he began, “the situation is serious. The time has come to do battle. Are you ready?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” the Wizards chorused.

“On no account must we let the Witches win,” Lamarque warned, but his attention was caught by a blast of green lightning across the otherwise cloudless sky. Storm clouds began forming with unnatural rapidity, and Gueulemer’s ghastly laughter filled the air. The black rain began to fall. The Army of Darkness was being summoned, first the Scrapers, then the Decay Soldiers. Lamarque narrowed his eyes. “Take up your positions and draw your weapons. The time has come.”

The battle began, but really, it resumed from the previous day. The Wizards slashed swords, sabres and whips, and fired guns and arrows, while the Decay Soldiers grasped with their claws and lashed their tentacles. A deep roar from above made the Wizards look up at the battlements, and they realised that the Decay Fighters had entered the battle.

Combeferre took out several in a few blasts of Air Darts, but to his shock,the displaced Scrapers simply got up and moulded back together into an absolutely __enormous__  Decay Soldier - taller than even the largest Decay Fighter. “They’re like Hydra heads!” he realised. “Kill one, and it will simply come back bigger and stronger!”

Larbin had joined the fight too. He was about the same height as a regular Decay Soldier, and he was swinging and swiping at them with his great fists. As the one he’d been wrestling gave up and burst into Scrapers, he noticed a particularly menacing one approaching Grantaire from behind, and called a warning to him. “Watch out! Look behind you!”

Grantaire turned, and ducked out of the way of the huge pincer, but he wasn’t fast enough - the Decay Soldier grabbed him around the neck and swung him through the air like a ragdoll.

 

 

At Votirlu, Patron-Minette gazed into the crystal ball on the desk, watching the fight play out at Corinthe. “Look at them,” Babet sighed. “Why do they even bother? Puny, worthless gnats. We are _invincible!”_

 

 

Larbin charged through the battle, sending Decay Soldiers flying, and punched the one that had grabbed Grantaire with a snarl, making it drop the dark-haired boy. The ogre grabbed the monster around the middle, and flung it into another Decay Soldier, taking them both out.

Grantaire wheezed and took a deep breath. “Hey, big guy,” he smiled at Larbin. “Thanks!”

Lamarque had summoned a broadsword and had cleared a good area around himself. With enough space, he raised his hand and began chanting, _“Exercitus abyssum nocturna animalia, quae est mali mala mundi dehinc ex aedibus hec literarum!”_ A powerful globe of orange light glowed in his hand, and he touched it to the ground, sending a shockwave through the entire castle. The rain stopped, and Lamarque continued, _“Gravius, fuistis futuis!”_ The Decay Soldiers and Fighters all burst into the Scrapers they were made of, and the Scrapers themselves melted away to nothing. The battle seemed to be over.

Suddenly, another projection appeared, this time in the sky. Babet glared down at the Wizards, clenching his teeth, and with a flash, the stables went up in flames. The dragons all fled to the skies, and Babet cackled delightedly. Lamarque hurriedly clapped his hands, and the fire went out as quickly as it had started. The projection vanished, but in its place appeared Patron-Minette themselves, in the flesh.

“You’re wasting your time, Lamarque,” Babet informed him. “Your school is beyond saving.” He raised his hands, and a dragon made of ice appeared, with a slender body and huge wings. It shot towards the castle, and wrapped around it before vanishing, covering it in ice. The students and teachers were all trapped within a crystalline dome over the courtyard. Babet raised a finger, and drew a line along the ice covering the tower with his fingernail. With a sickening crack, the top of the tower was lifted off and shattered. Patron-Minette laughed again, and vanished. Lamarque turned to his students.

“We need to get out of here now! To the battleships!”

The students regrouped into their battalions, and headed to the docking bay, which had three of the scarlet airships prepared for them. The students entered them in groups, Lamarque getting into the last one to make sure everyone was accounted for.

“We’ll head to Musain, Myriel will be able to help us,” he instructed. “Take the most direct route. Stealth won’t help us at this point.”

As the last ship left the building, Lamarque looked back and sighed as the roof of the castle crumbled in, and the entire structure collapsed. They’d got out just in time.

 

 

Having returned to Votirlu, Claquesous high-fived Gueulemer. “Weren’t we just great?” she giggled. “We totally destroyed their school and sent them running!”

“We rule!” agreed Gueulemer.

“And we’re not even done yet,” Babet chuckled. “The best is yet to come.”

 

 

The storm on Domino had calmed, and the snow was falling at a more sedate rate. The Amis continued through the wasteland, bracing themselves against the chilly air. Suddenly, the peace was broken by a sharp cracking noise, and the ground shook beneath their feet.

Enjolras glanced around nervously. “What was that?”

His question was answered when the source of the noise - which they had previously mistaken for a mountain - got up and beat its chest with its enormous fists. It was a yeti - a great, hulking beast 100 feet tall and covered in thick white fur, with two massive tusks protruding from its mouth, and its roar could have cracked the sky open. It punched the ground, sending a great avalanche of snow towards the Amis, burying them in it.

Enjolras was the first to poke his head out of the snow, followed by Cosette and Courfeyrac. “Let’s get out of here!” Cosette yelled. She and Enjolras climbed out of the snowbank, as did the others, and they split off in different directions, Enjolras and Cosette running North while the others ran South. The Yeti went after Courfeyrac, Éponine and Jehan, and sent another avalanche tumbling towards them before turning back to go after Cosette and Enjolras.

Cosette tripped, and Enjolras ran back to help her. He realised how close the yeti was getting, and helped Cosette up to her feet. “Don’t worry, Sette. I’ll deal with him. Transform!” In a flash, he was wearing his Faery clothes, and had summoned his sceptre. “Alright, you big smelly fur coat,” he snarled. “Let’s see if you can take the heat!” He sent two beams of hot sunlight towards the yeti, which snarled as the light hit its tusks. It grabbed a mountain, and to the shock of both Cosette and Enjolras, swung it at them like a bat. “OK,” Enjolras said nervously, “I really don’t like where this is going.”

As the yeti swung the sharp end of the mountain towards them, the others, who had managed to dig themselves out of the second avalanche, came running towards them. The yeti changed its mind at the last minute, and instead threw the mountain at the ground. The rocky missile split the ground open - like Gueulemer had when Cosette had fought him in the simulator, except this time there was no lava, just a dark, apparently bottomless pit.

“Watch out!” Enjolras screamed, and he, Courfeyrac, Jehan and Éponine stepped away from the crack.

Unfortunately, poor Cosette was stuck on the other side of the rapidly widening chasm, and she wobbled, trying to keep her balance. Enjolras reached for her, but he was too far and too late - Cosette lost her balance, and with a terrified scream, she fell into the chasm!

“COSETTE!” the Amis shrieked, but the yeti was already approaching, ready to attack again.

 

 

Babet stared into the crystal ball in Thénardier’s office, grinning wickedly as he watched the yeti advancing on the Amis, and Cosette falling into the chasm. “Goodbye, Cosette,” he smirked.

 

 

The three Corinthe airships landed behind Musain castle, and the boys dismounted and headed through the side entrance into the courtyard. Myriel was waiting at the main doors, a concerned expression on his face.

“Come on in, young Wizards,” he welcomed them. “We’ve set up beds in the dining hall. Go on in and get settled, it’s just down the hall past the nurse’s office. If any of you are injured or otherwise in need of medical attention, Nurse Dahlia is still up, and she will be more than happy to help you.”

“Thank you, Myriel,” Lamarque said gratefully. “The situation is critical. Corinthe has been destroyed. The Witches’ magical arsenal is astronomically huge. We had to withdraw.”

Myriel nodded. “I understand. But I fear that this war is only just beginning.”


	17. In Which The Wizards Have Great Timing, And Marius Has An Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Domino, the Amis continue to search for the castle while trying to avoid the yeti. The castle holds a secret that isn't what Cosette was looking for, but it does explain the dreams she's been having.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this chapter took so long! I had an exam, and then I had work, and I've just had no time to write. Hope it was worth the wait!

At the bottom of the chasm she’d fallen into, Cosette dug herself out of the pile of snow she’d landed in. Luckily, Faeries had far more enduring physiques than humans, and she was alright, save for a bruised coccyx and a faster than normal heartbeat. Even at that, she’d been really lucky; it was a pretty deep canyon - maybe 50 feet deep. She’d actually landed on a shelf far higher up, and slid down to the pile of snow at the bottom. Cosette got up and checked herself, relieved that she was still in one piece. She took a deep breath, and decided to remain calm and look for a way out of the crevice. Unfortunately, the bottom of the canyon seemed to be pretty much a maze made of ice.

 

 

Up on the surface, the yeti was stomping around, looking for his quarry - the four Faeries, who were hiding behind a snowdrift. Jehan shuddered as it passed the group’s hiding place, but it was soon far away enough to feel (relatively) safe.

“Now what?” they asked their friends.

“I think it’s actually going away,” Enjolras murmured. “We’re out of sight, and we’re not exactly good food for yetis. What do we do?”

“I say we attack right now,” Courfeyrac said. “It won’t expect it. We have the element of surprise!”

Éponine shook her head. “No, it thinks it’s rid of us. Let it believe that, and we can focus on finding Cosette.”

“Where do we even start?” Enjolras groaned. “That yeti caused so many avalanches, the canyon is buried. There’s no sign of her anywhere.”

Jehan looked thoughtful. “I say we start over there.” They pointed, and the Amis followed their gaze. “Is it just me, or do those two little mountains with a bigger mountain behind them sort of look like… _castle turrets?”_

“They are!” Enjolras nodded in agreement. “See how the ice isn’t perfectly white? It has a pinkish tint. The ice is just a coating.”

“Like when you put clear nail varnish on top of coloured nail varnish to stop it chipping!” Éponine agreed. “That is one thick coating, though. It’ll never chip.”

Courfeyrac nodded. “We’re gonna need a _lot_ of acetone.”

“I don’t have acetone,” Enjolras smiled, “but maybe some sunlight will do the trick?” He swung his sceptre back and it glowed with bright yellow light, as did the turrets. The ice seemed to be getting thinner, and Enjolras banged the sceptre on the snow-covered ground. “The rest of the castle has to be under our feet,” he said thoughtfully. The snow began to melt away, leaving them standing on a long golden roof. “Booyah.”

 

 

Cosette wandered through the ice maze, carefully testing the ground before she stepped on it - the last thing she needed was to fall down another hole. It could have been hours for all she knew - even though it was only ten minutes - before she came to a battered, rusting cast-iron gate with half the rails missing. Her eyes widened, and she stepped through, realising that the ice had stopped. The walls weren’t frozen in here; they were covered in half-destroyed medieval-looking tapestries. The floor was stone, and there was something in the centre of the room that looked like it could have been a dining table. Cosette got closer, and it was indeed a dining table - there were even some empty dishes frozen to the surface. “It must have been ransacked before it was covered in ice,” she whispered as she brushed some snow off a dining chair lying on its side, and her voice echoed around the empty room. Cosette stood up and looked around - a growing sense of familiarity was overtaking her. She stood the chair up and pushed it into position. “You go here,” she murmured, but then paused in shock. She remembered this room. This must have been the castle of Domino. Which meant… she’d __lived__  here. Whoa.

Cosette continued through a doorway into room with a high glass ceiling and arches around the walls on two levels, leading into other rooms. The odd glitter of sunlight gave it away, and she realised that the ceiling was made of ice, so this must have been the courtyard. She ran her hand down a frosted arch in amazement, when suddenly she was knocked off her feet. _An earthquake!_  Cosette realised. A huge chunk off ice crashed down from the ceiling, and she darted away from it with a scream.

 

 

Enjolras fluttered over to the new crevice created by the melted ice. “I think it’s the castle’s courtyard,” he called over to his friends. Jehan, Éponine and Courfeyrac joined him at the edge, and Jehan suddenly grinned.

“Look down there!” they beamed. “It’s Cosette!”

Indeed it was. Enjolras looked seriously relieved. “Cosette! You’re OK!”

Cosette looked delighted too. “Yeah, I’m fine! Get your asses down here, there’s something I need to show you!”

“We’ll be with you in a second,” Enjolras promised. He flew back into the air, and once again blasted the towers of the castle with sunlight. Courfeyrac looked thoughtful for a second, before sending green light towards the blond boy, forming a dome over him.

“I can amplify the effectiveness of your powers by using a concentric dome to focus the light,” he explained. “It’s like a catalyst.” And indeed, the ice covering the castle was vanishing a lot quicker than before. Within five minutes, there was a valley around the castle, and the ice inside and out had completely gone.

Enjolras flew back down to the ground to where Éponine, Courfeyrac and Jehan had joined Cosette in the courtyard. Cosette shuddered at some of the newly visible wreckage. “God, if this is what the Ancestral Witches did to this planet even without the Dragon Flame, imagine what Patron-Minette could do to the Magic Dimension _with_  it.”

“Not gonna happen,” Éponine said firmly. “That’s why we’re here. We’re going to find a way to get your powers back, and prevent those three from causing any destruction at all.”

Courfeyrac, meanwhile, was examining the single door that had not been ripped off its hinges. “Check this out,” he murmured, pushing it open to reveal a downwards staircase. “I think there are some underground hallways that haven’t been damaged. The door was probably magically concealed, and the Witches never found it, but the spell has worn off with age.”

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going down there,” Cosette said firmly. “I think it’s our best shot.”

“We’re going down with you!” Enjolras insisted. “Besides, it looks pretty dark. You’re going to need my powers.” He marched resolutely through the door and down the staircase, and Cosette and the others followed him. Courfeyrac glanced around.

“There are no spiderwebs or insects,” he muttered. “This place has been abandoned for a _very_ long time.”

Enjolras tapped his sceptre on the floor, and a bright light beamed out of it. “There. Now we’re less likely to trip.”

They reached the bottom of the staircase and headed down the corridor on the other side of an archway. There were no tapestries, furniture or paintings, just dusty carpets and wallpaper.

_“Euphrasie!”_

Cosette jumped in fright. “Did… any of you hear that?” she whispered. “The voice?”

Jehan shrugged “I didn’t hear anything, sorry.”

Courfeyrac checked his map and zoomed in on the castle. “I’m not picking up any other life forms.”

 _“Welcome!”_ the voice said, and this time all of them heard it. A bright light with a pinkish tint was filling the corridor, seemingly emanating from a single point that was getting closer and closer. _“I am Fantine.”_

“My mother,” Cosette whispered.

“Fantine disappeared years ago,” Courfeyrac said uncertainly. “There’s no way she’s been alive down here all this time.”

“She’s not alive,” Cosette shook her head. “At least, not here. Headmaster Myriel said that my connection to her is strongest in the places she was connected to. I think she’s sort of… astral-projecting.”

 _“Indeed,”_ the voice chuckled, echoing. _“We meet at last, darling daughter. Follow me.”_ The light glowed brightly and moved back down the hallway, and Cosette followed it eagerly, as did her friends. Fantine moved extremely quickly though, and it wasn’t long before Cosette began to get tired.

“Fantine, I mean, Mum!” Cosette panted as they rounded a bend. “Can you maybe slow down?”

 _“Oh! Of course,”_ Fantine said apologetically. The light slowed to a complete stop, and Cosette giggled.

“I didn’t mean _that_  slow, Mum.”

 _“No, no, I know,”_ Fantine reassured her. _“We’re here anyway, at the place I wanted to show you, but I almost forgot to tell you this first. I was the Nymph of Lake Roccaluce, and it was in this castle that you were born. Sixteen years ago, I passed the power of the Dragon Flame to you, thus beginning the war that destroyed our home.”_  She suddenly sounded sad. _“I know why you’re here, Euphrasie, but you will not find what you are looking for here. However, you ** **will****  find one of our castle’s best-kept secrets.” _Cosette glanced around, and realised they had stopped next to a giant wooden double door with golden markings. _“This,”_ Fantine said, _“_ i _s Domino’s treasure vault.”_  The doors creaked open, and the light left the corridor and entered the room. _“Please, do come in.”_

The Amis followed her into the room, and their jaws dropped in awe at the sheer amount of gold in the room. Even Enjolras, who had grown up around wealthy socialites and vast amounts of royal flamboyance, was in awe. “I think you might be even richer than me,” he murmured. “Hell, maybe even richer than Eraklyon’s royal family.”

Fantine’s glowing ball of light was hovering over a glass case at the far end of the room, and Cosette walked over to join her as though in a trance. She gazed into the case, and her eyes widened. “It’s the crown that I saw at the bottom of the lake,” she whispered.

 _“It is **your**  crown,” _Fantine said softly. _“Wear it, and listen carefully.”_  Cosette flipped her hood back before she lifted the lid of the case and delicately lifted the crown off its plush mauve velvet pillow. She placed the crown on her head; the silver twists glittered on her hair, and the blue crystal sat in the centre of her forehead. It fit perfectly. _“You were always destined to be the keeper of the Dragon Flame,” Fantine whispered. “It’s the force that protects our dimension from evil and chaos. The three Ancestral Witches tried to take it when you were an infant, but failed when I sent you to Earth, a place so far away and forgotten about that they could not sense your trail. In their anger, they destroyed our home and my body.”_

Tears glistened in Cosette’s eyes, and she removed the crown and put it back in its case. “Oh, God,” she whispered. “Oh, God. How are you talking to me now? You’re dead.”

 _“My body’s gone, yes,”_  Fantine sighed, _“but I live on without a body. I don’t know where I am. I’m trapped somewhere in this dimension, and I miss you every day.”_

“I’ll find you,” Cosette said firmly, wiping her eyes. “As soon as I’m done with Patron-Minette, I’m coming to find you, and I’ll free you.”

 _“That’s how my daughter should talk,”_  Fantine said proudly. _“I love you, dearest, and I am so, ** **so****  proud of you. I have to go now, my time has run out, but I love you, always.”_

“I love you too, Mum,” Cosette whispered, and Fantine glowed even brighter before vanishing. Enjolras relit his sceptre, and Cosette smiled at him as she replaced the lid on the case. “I think it’s high time we headed back to Magix,” she grinned. “Patron-Minette has had my Dragon Flame for quite long enough, I reckon.”

“There’s the Cosette we know and love!” Enjolras grinned. “We missed you.”

“I missed me too,” Cosette chuckled. “Let’s go!” She led the way back through the corridors, up the stairs, and across the courtyard until they found the front doors of the castle. As they pushed them open however, an enormous roar shook the sky.

“I think our furry friend is back,” Éponine shuddered.

Jehan pointed up to the top of the melted valley around the castle. “He’s back, alright. And he brought friends!” The yeti was glaring down at them, and at its feet glittered hundreds of strange crab-like creatures with huge pincers and bodies seemingly made of ice.

“Aww man, ice-crabs?” Courfeyrac groaned. “I hate those things. They’re native to Zenith, and they can be seriously crabby.” The Amis all groaned at the pun, and he, Éponine and Jehan quickly transformed and fluttered into the air with Enjolras.

The ice-crabs began charging towards them, and Éponine swiped her hands through the air. “Magic Bass Boom!” A low frequency pulse filled the air, knocking the ice-crabs off their feet as they charged.

“Flowers Of The Wind!” Jehan cried, and seeds drifted through the air to the ground, taking root instantly. Huge vines sprung up, binding the ice-crabs in place. A few smashed the crabs on the ground, shattering their bodies.

“Solar Wind!” Enjolras yelled, and yellow light filled the air, melting any ice-crabs that it touched. The horde was decimated in seconds, but more appeared at the yeti’s feet in an instant. “Fuck, there are hundreds of them, and they just keep coming!”

“Maybe I can cut their ranks down to size,” Courfeyrac grinned. He raised his hand, and several of the little green chips he could manifest appeared in his hand. He fluttered his wings, and dived between the crabs, dropping the chips onto each one he passed. When he was out of range, the chips beeped and exploded, sending ice flying. “Consider yourselves deleted,” he grinned, but more ice-crabs were already scuttling towards the group, snapping their pincers menacingly. “Aww man, seriously?!”

“We need better cover!” Éponine shouted. “Head for the castle.” The Faeries turned and flew (or in Cosette’s case, ran) for the castle as quickly as they could, and Cosette slammed the doors shut behind them.

“OK, now what?” Jehan asked.

Courfeyrac took charge. “Éponine, Enjolras, you guys pick them off from a window. We’ll cover you from down here.”

Éponine and Enjolras nodded and fluttered up to the next floor, where they found a suitably shattered window. Éponine summoned her flute, and began playing a protective charm, creating a bright pink shield around them. Any ice-crabs that touched it were instantly throw back. Meanwhile, Enjolras was blasting them with light from his sceptre.

“Isn’t there a saying,” he pondered, “that the best defence is a good offence?”

“It’s from American Football, it’s an Earth sport,” Éponine nodded. “Courf did some research on Earth customs a while ago so he could find it easier to talk to Cosette. It was funny, because she understood American Football even less than he did.” She took a deep breath and continued playing the melody.

Courfeyrac was blasting at ice-crabs that were climbing the walls away from Éponine’s shield. He missed one, and it jumped at Cosette, who shrieked in fear. He hurriedly blasted it away from her, and she thanked him gratefully. “Don’t waste your energy there, Sette,” he teased. “You’re a princess, after all.”

Jehan was once again summoning vines, which wrapped around the crabs and threw them back down to the bottom of the wall. “That ought to keep them busy for a while,” they smiled.

“Think again, buddy,” Courfeyrac winced. “Look!”

Ice-crabs are ruthless creatures, and they were using the pile of their destroyed peers as a stepladder to climb the castle walls and avoid Jehan’s vines. “Oh, crap,” Enjolras said nervously.

Éponine’s flute vanished. “I can put up a sound wall to defend us,” she suggested, but Enjolras shook his head.

“No, that’s next level magic. It’s way too dangerous, you could drain your powers!”

The yeti had stomped down to the castle by this point, and began blowing cold air at the Faeries. The description doesn’t seem particularly fearsome, but yetis have the same lung capacity as a small blue whale, meaning about 4500 litres of stale air was being blasted at high speed towards them. Enjolras and Éponine were both knocked out of the air, landing next to Cosette, and as the yeti inhaled and made to blow at them again, Jehan and Courfeyrac dived in front of them and created a magical barrier of glowing green light. The blast was powerful enough that the shield shattered and they both skidded across the ground, landing next to their friends.

Cosette ran to help Courfeyrac up. “Come on, we have to get inside!” she hissed. “It will be harder for it to attack us.”

The five Faeries ran from the courtyard into the nearest room, which happened to be a corridor leading to some stairs. As they slammed the door closed behind them, the ice-crabs succeeded in breaking down the main door, and they swarmed into the courtyard, menacingly snapping their claws. The Amis split in different directions, but a nearby snapping noise made their blood turn cold. The ice-crabs were in the corridor.

Four had followed Éponine, who was fluttering up near the ceiling. They gazed up at her, snapping their jaws hungrily. Éponine held her hands in front of her, and muttered, “Sonic Cannon Blast!” Magenta light blasted from her hands, creating a low-frequency thrumming noise that made the ice-crabs’ bodies shatter after a few seconds. Éponine relievedly flew back to the ground; her wings were exhausted.

 

 

Outside, the yeti reached for the doors the Amis had run through, but something hit him in the back - something red and disk-shaped. He roared loudly, and the red thing landed in front of the doors the yeti had been reaching for, blocking them off. It was a Corinthe airship, and as a few ice-crabs approached it, the hatch swung open, and Prince Marius, Grantaire and Combeferre jumped down. Marius made eye contact with a particularly vicious-looking crab, and hurriedly formed a fire-blade.

The ice-crab didn’t like that at _all_ , and clicked at two of its buddies. The three crabs charged at Marius, who swung his sword through the air, melting the crabs the second they touched it. Behind him, Grantaire had summoned his water broadsword, and was slashing at the crabs which, without a leader, had gone into full battle-mode. Combeferre was shooting at the ice-crabs with air-darts, and soon the immediate area was free of them. More were approaching quickly, though.

Grantaire glanced over at Marius. “You had to pick a fight with the big one, didn’t you? They just keep on coming!”

They were once again surrounded by the creatures, and Combeferre shuddered. “What now?”

“Plan B,” Marius said. “When I say go, run at them. GO!” The three boys ran towards the crabs, confusing them as they were used to being the aggressor rather than the attacked.

 

 

Enjolras and Cosette were sticking together, and Enjolras was using his sceptre to defend them from the ice-crabs that had followed them. He could only hold off the ones in front of them, though, and Cosette realised that two had sneaked up on them from behind. She yelped, and pulled a metal torch off the wall, using it as a bat. With two swings, the crabs were smashed into pieces, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“This corridor isn’t safe!” Enjolras panted. “We need to find cover!” He flew down the newly cleared corridor, Cosette running behind him. They arrived in a huge circular room with a glass ceiling - the ballroom - and made to run to the archway into another corridor across the hall, but Jehan came zooming out of it with a yell. They turned and blasted magic at the arch, and vines appeared, knotting into a net. Several ice-crabs appeared on the other side of it, scratching at it with their pincers and jaws. Éponine and Courfeyrac appeared from a third corridor with steps leading down into the ballroom, and several ice-crabs were following them. More of the beasts came from the corridor Cosette and Enjolras had just vacated, and at that moment the ice-crabs that had been following Jehan succeeded in chewing through the vines. They were surrounded. There was no way out.

Jehan blasted seeds at the ground. “Don’t touch my friends, you ugly beasts!” they growled out. “Venus Gobblers!” The same huge Venus Flytraps that Jehan had fought the Army of Darkness with appeared and chowed down on the ice-crabs, but there weren’t enough to go around, and they were still surrounded.

Courfeyrac’s hands glowed, and he muttered, “Let me help, Jehan. Static Sphere!” A green cage appeared, sucking more of the ice-crabs into it, and Courfeyrac punted the full cage over to Éponine, who blasted them with a burst of magenta light. The crabs shattered, and the fragmented ice glittered in the air like fireworks as it fell to the ground. Enjolras was blasting sunlight at as many as he could, and Cosette dived out of the way - landing directly next to the biggest crab of all!

It pounced at her, and she screamed and covered her face, but the sound of a sword slashing through the air made her look up. It was Prince Marius! He’d arrived just in time. Cosette didn’t have time to wonder what he was doing there, because at that moment, Combeferre and Grantaire came crashing through the ceiling.

Combeferre blasted air-darts at the crabs, which shattered instantly. “Someone order sushi?” he grinned. Beside him, Marius and Grantaire had destroyed loads of ice-crabs, and there were only a few left, but suddenly the room went dark! The Wizards and Faeries alike looked up at the glass ceiling, to see the yeti staring down through the hole Combeferre had made. It punched its hand through the glass, reaching into the room, and Grantaire slashed at it with his sword, but it only served to make the yeti even angrier. It pulled its hand away, and roared loudly.

“Alright,” Enjolras snapped. “I don’t know about you lot, but I’ve had quite enough of this guy. Faeries, let’s take him down!” He flew up through the hole the yeti had made, followed by Jehan, Courfeyrac and Éponine.

“Courfeyrac!” Cosette yelled up at the curly-haired boy. “You have to coordinate the attack, combine your powers!”

“Of course!” Courfeyrac gasped. “Hang on! Static Sphere!” The laser cage appeared again, and Courfeyrac flung it at the yeti. It had to expand to an enormous size to trap the creature, but it managed, and the yeti sat within it, glaring at Courfeyrac.

Jehan threw seeds at the cage, and they landed on the bars in perfect formation, while Enjolras used his sun powers to make them grow quicker. The seeds burst into flower, and Éponine shouted, “Maximum Volume!” With a bang, the flowers exploded, and the cage vanished. The yeti fell back into the snow, and with a burst of blue light, it was gone too. The Amis grinned down at the print it had left in the snow.

 

 

Back on the ground and untransformed, the Faeries and the Wizards met back at the ship. Enjolras, to the surprise of all, ran at Grantaire and threw his arms around him, before pulling away awkwardly. “Um, thanks,” he smiled. “For saving us, I mean.”

“We couldn’t just not save you,” Grantaire laughed awkwardly.

“But how did you guys find out about our mission?” Courfeyrac asked.

Marius sighed. “Corinthe was destroyed by Patron-Minette, so all the Wizards took refuge at Musain. We were looking for you guys when Professor Palladium told us that you were here. He opened a portal for us, but we still couldn’t find you.”

“Luckily, Prince Marius here never gives up, so here he is,” Grantaire grinned. “Along with his squire.” He pointed at himself.

“Why don’t we all go back to Musain now then?” Jehan smiled.

“Yes please,” Enjolras said emphatically. “I am _not_  a fan of winter weather.”

Cosette noticed Prince Marius looking at her, and she hurriedly looked away. She was still pretty hurt from the events at the Corinthe exhibition.

 

 

As the ship took off from the surface of the frozen planet, Cosette gazed out the window at the rapidly shrinking castle in the distance. She jumped when a voice behind said her name, and turned to see Prince Marius sitting down next to her. “Sorry, did you say something?” she asked.

Prince Marius began nodding, but then shook his head. “No, it’s…” He leaned back, but suddenly took a deep breath. “Actually yes. Cosette, I need to talk to you about what happened at the exhibition.”

Cosette nodded. “OK. Then talk.”

“My grandfather is the king of Eraklyon,” Marius began. “It’s the richest planet in the Magic Dimension, and it’s very traditional. Unfortunately, it’s also in the middle of a civil war. A man named Bellacodice is trying to take over the kingdom, and it looks like there are quite a lot of sympathisers. He reckons that if he can kidnap me, he can extort my grandfather to abdicate -”

“Which is why you and Grantaire switched places, so you would be safer,” Cosette realised. “OK, that I can forgive. But the fiancée? You’ve got some serious explaining to do about her.”

“Right, right,” Marius nodded. “I’ve never had feelings for Céleste. I mean, she’s fine, but I’m not into her. I’m not her boyfriend, and I didn’t propose to her either. It was an arranged marriage. Her family has ties to Bellacodice, and my Aunt Amandine arranged a marriage between me and her to try and bring peace to the country. And I always sort of knew I had to marry her, but then when we went to Paris to help Enjolras, I saw you, and I forgot about her. I convinced myself that it was just a passing fancy, you were pretty, and that’s all there was to it. But then I got to know you, and your personality is even more beautiful than your face is, and I… I never stood a chance. I’m sorry I never told you about Céleste, Cosette. The truth is, I forgot she even existed until my grandfather wrote to me that she would be attending the exhibition.”

Cosette was quiet for a moment before asking,“Are you still engaged to her?”

Marius shook his head. “She tried to get me to abandon my friends during the first battle at Corinthe, and I immediately wrote to my aunt to get her to end the engagement. I wouldn’t abandon my friends for the world. And I really like you, Cosette. I was going to break it off anyway, but I figured my aunt would accept the friend thing more than the feelings thing.”

Cosette nodded. “OK, well, I’m glad that you broke it off. Because what you just said to me, about my personality being even more beautiful than my face, was unbelievably cheesy, but you are adorable.” Her face split into a wide grin. “I don’t know if I’m ready for a proper relationship, but I’d really like to go back to where we were - on one condition.”

Marius’ eyes widened, and he nodded. “What condition?”

“I don’t have to call you ‘Prince Marius’. Just ‘Marius’.”

Marius burst out laughing. “Of course! I cannot tell you how relieved I am, I thought you were going to demand a sacrifice to one of your Earth gods or something!”

Cosette burst out laughing too. And if she slipped her hand into Marius’, which was resting on the arm-rest between them, no one had to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest with y'all: I wrote Marius' apology speech when I was in the shower. It's so annoying when ideas turn up right when you have nothing to write on! It might be a little while before the next chapter goes up, due to work and exams, but I'll finish this story eventually! (TBH I'm already planning the second part of this series). Thanks for reading!!


	18. In Which Enjolras Did Not Sign Up For Trecking Through A Glorified Sewer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having returned from Domino with nothing to show for it, Cosette comes up with a new plan to retrieve her powers, while Patron-Minette launches their first serious attack on Musain...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one exam to go!! Probably won't be another chapter up til after it's done, but this one's nice and long to make up for it. Enjoy!!!  
> (Also I'm so used to typing 'Enjolras' that every time I try to type 'Enjoy' I automatically change to 'Enjolras' halfway through rip)

The Corinthe ship landed next to its fellows behind Musain Castle, and the Wizards and Faeries hurriedly dismounted and ran to the courtyard. Headmasters Myriel and Lamarque were waiting for them on the steps, and Myriel started forwards relievedly when he saw them. “Welcome back, all of you! Cosette, dear, how are you doing?”

Cosette smiled. “Fine, Headmaster. I think I’ll be OK.”

“Thanks to the Wizards,” Enjolras added. “Their arrival was extremely timely, we may not have made it back without them.”

Wolter came bounding over to them to greet his mistress, but Courfeyrac was the first to notice the little grey duckling toddling after him. “Looks like Wolter’s made a new friend,” he laughed.

Jehan’s eyes widened. “Hang on. That’s the duck I gave Babet. How did it get here?”

A pair of enormous yellow-skinned feet appeared behind the duckling. The Faeries followed the legs attached to them up past a plump yet muscular body to a squashed face with a bushy brown beard and dull red eyes, and a mouth full of crooked teeth that smiled at them. Cosette’s eyes widened. “Headmaster! That’s the ogre who attacked me and Enjolras in Paris, and he was with them the night they stole my powers! He works for Patron-Minette!”

“Patron-Minette stole your powers?!” Marius, Grantaire and Combeferre all looked shocked. This was the first they had heard of it.

Cosette sighed and nodded. “I’ll explain later.” She returned her attention to Headmaster Myriel.

“Larbin did indeed work for the three Witches,” Myriel agreed, “but he is on our side now.”

“He has fought courageously against the forces of evil,” Lamarque added.

The ogre nodded. “Ravageur and I managed to escape from the scarinesses through the secret tunnels. They want to kill us for betraying them, but Mister Lamarque Sir protected me.”

“Larbin has been a huge help to us,” Lamarque continued. “Unfortunately, he knows not what happened to Headmaster Thénardier and the other students.”

Éponine gazed around the courtyard, and for the first time noticed some of Lamarque’s students going back and forth between the airships, returning carrying boxes and bags of what they had been able to save from the destroyed school. “It’s getting a little crowded in the castle,” she commented.

Myriel nodded. “Corinthe has been destroyed, and Headmaster Lamarque and his students will be staying with us for now.”

Cosette, Enjolras and Courfeyrac all looked delighted, and Jehan sniggered quietly. Myriel looked incredibly serious, though.

“As strong, courageous and well-trained as the Wizards are, there is no way they could have overpowered Babet, Claquesous, and Gueulemer by themselves. Magix City too has fallen to Patron-Minette, and Musain is the only place yet to have been attacked with the Witches’ full power.”

“And it won’t be long before they launch a new attack on Musain,” Lamarque said gravely. “With the most powerful Faeries in the dimension out of the way, the rest of our universe would be theirs for the taking. We’ve got to be ready to fight them.”

“Luckily, I have a battle plan in mind,” Cosette said determinedly. She’d been thinking about it since they had met Fantine in Domino’s castle, and she was fairly confident that she had come up with a solution.

 

 

In a prison cell in Votirlu Castle’s attic, Bahorel glared at the two Witches smirking through the bars on the door at him. Gueulemer grinned down at him. “Look at him. Not so fiery without access to his powers, is he?”

Claquesous sniggered beside her cousin. “Our new powers are the best, and I say we use them some more. Let’s mess with his head.” The two walked out of sight, and Bahorel leaned back against the damp wall. He looked up at the sound of footprints inside his actual cell, and for the first time in days, his jaw dropped in shock. Seven pairs of his own eyes stared back at him. Seven more Bahorels crossed their arms over their chests and glared silently at him.

“What?” the real Bahorel whispered in shock. “What’s going on? What are you trying to do?” The clones continued glaring at him in absolute silence. “Come on, speak! What is it?! WHAT DO YOU WANT?!” Bahorel raised his fists and moved into a fighting stance. The clones copied him. “What are you _waiting for?!”_ Bahorel nearly sobbed in anger. “Who _are_ you?”

The clones suddenly warped, and one by one morphed into creatures with scaly bodies and tentacles for mouths, and glowing red pupilless eyes. They dissolved into mush before reforming into one enormous scaly monster.

“Go away!” Bahorel whimpered. “Stay away from me, stay back! That’s not who I am!” He backed into the corner, tears pouring down his face. For the first time since he was a little kid, he realised that he was scared. “I’m not a monster!” he whispered. “ _I’m not.”_ He put his face in his hands and scrubbed furiously at his eyes. When he looked up again, the monster was sitting across from him, in the same position, copying his exact movements. “You don’t exist, you can’t!” Bahorel whispered. He reached out a hand, as did the monster, and they connected. The monster’s skin was soft, warm and slimy - as though it had been marinating in its own sweat for quite some time; the way Bahorel had been marinating in the dark recesses of his own mind recently. He pulled his hand away and retreated to his corner, but this time the monster didn’t mirror him; it leaned closer until its tentacles were only an inch or so away from his nose and he could see his own pallid face contorting with fear reflected in its fathomless eyes. Bahorel took a deep breath and collected himself.

“Alright, big guy,” he said quietly. “I have no way to defend myself against you, but I’m not going to panic. I don’t give up so easily, you know. There are so many things I don’t like about myself, things I hate about myself, but I’m _far_  from being a monster, OK, I have a heart. And…” he stuttered, shaking, but continued on. “Although I know that they’ll probably never forgive me for what I’ve said and done, I have a few friends too. Real ones, who care about me - at least, I care about them.” He looked up, and the monster was gone, fading from view. Bahorel breathed in relief; the truth had been difficult to admit, but his heart was the lightest it had felt in forever.

“Hey!” a husky voice said. “Kiddo!” Bahorel started at the noise, and got to his feet, heading over to the barred door to see who or what had spoken. A pair of yellow eyes with scarlet pupils gazed back at him from the door of the cell opposite his own.

“Headmaster Thénardier?” Bahorel said in shock. “What are you doing here?”

The Witch sighed. “Paying the price for my foolishness. I too have shown misjudgement. I should have realised sooner how dangerous their amount of ambition was.”

“It’s not your fault,” Bahorel said quietly. “A lot of people misjudged them, myself included. It would have been impossible to have guessed what they were planning, they knew exactly what they were doing at every turn.” He leaned his forehead against the cool bars, and in doing so noticed for the first time the ancient lock on the door. “Professor?” he asked curiously. “What sort of lock is this?”

“Magic-proof,” Thénardier replied. “Only a true Witch - one who has reached the highest level of power by nature - would be able to unlock it with magic.”

Bahorel grinned; he’d taken up lock-picking as a hobby at the age of about seven. Magic-proof locks were his speciality, as most beings requiring a magic-proof lock didn’t know how to pick one (if you were powerful enough to blast most obstacles to pieces, why bother learning such a rarely used party trick?). He rummaged in his pockets, and eventually found a metal paper-clip, which he bent in various angles until it looked right. “The person hasn’t been born yet who can keep me locked up,” he grinned, inserting the bent metal into the lock and wiggling it until it clicked satisfyingly. “And I am out of here!” The door swung open, and he marched over to the cell holding Headmaster Thénardier. “Don’t worry, Professor. I’ll have you out in a second.”

“Don’t waste your time, kid,” Thénardier sighed. “Patron-Minette knew what they were doing. If it were as easy as that, I would have been out of here days ago. They found an ancient runic lock in the archives; not even the most ancient and powerful beings in the universe could undo it without its will. It answers only to the one who locked it.” He stepped back, allowing Bahorel to see into the cell. It was enormous, big enough for all the students of Votirlu and the teachers. A group of Witches stood near the front around a cauldron, and one was carefully adding green powder to it while another stirred the bubbling mixture within, and Thénardier gestured to them. “Some of my best students are helping me prepare a potion that will allow me to confuse the lock long enough to -” he dropped off abruptly at the sound of a screeching yowl coming from down the corridor.

“What was that?” Bahorel asked nervously.

“The Scrapers!” Thénardier whispered. “Save yourself! We’ll be fine. Go, run!”

“But -”

“There is nothing you can do to help me. Run!”

Bahorel turned and dashed away down the corridor. Behind him, he could hear the clicking sound of small multiple-limbed creatures scuttling across the floor. As he exited the corridor and began climbing stairs to the next level of attic, the sound of a larger, two-footed creature - far bigger than any humanoid - joined the scuttling. Bahorel ran up the stairs as fast as possible, until he reached another corridor at the top. He realised he had no idea where he was, and the corridor was a dead end - the only exit was via an arching window with no glass. The Scrapers, whatever they were - he hadn’t stopped to look - were getting closer. He could see a maroonish mass creeping up the stairs towards him, and he knew the window was his only chance.

Bahorel dashed towards the window, and climbed up onto the sill. The Scrapers were almost upon him, and he wondered briefly if this was where it ended, but he shook the thought quickly from his mind. With a deep breath, he jumped from the sill, and felt himself plummeting towards the ground.

 

 

“Bahorel,” Marius muttered under his breath. Cosette tilted her head at him.

“Huh?” she asked, but Marius shook his head.

“Sorry. I just… got a weird feeling.” Marius, Cosette, Enjolras and Grantaire had been summoned to Headmaster Myriel’s office. Myriel and Lamarque were waiting for them, along with Larbin the ogre.

“Well, Cosette,” Myriel began, “we have seriously considered your proposal, and we agree that it seems the best course of action. Getting the Dragon Flame back from Patron-Minette is our priority, preferably before the next attack on Musain - although this plan is extremely risky, which is why we have decided to send only you four.”

“Excuse me sir,” Marius asked confusedly, “but what are you talking about?”

“You mean Cosette hasn’t run this by you?” Lamarque asked. Cosette shrugged awkwardly. “You four are going to sneak into Votirlu Castle.”

Grantaire’s eyes widened. “What?”

Marius gave Cosette an extremely concerned look. “Only a total lunatic would even __think__  about going __anywhere__  near Votirlu right now!”

“Exactly!” Cosette nodded. “That’s the very last thing Patron-Minette will be expecting. I need to get into the castle and find where they’re keeping the Dragon Flame. We have no other choice.”

Grantaire raised a dark eyebrow. “How are you planning to get into the castle?”

Larbin spoke for the first time since entering the office. “Easy. We can take the tunnels!”

“Larbin is very familiar with the ancient underground passages linking the three schools,” Cosette explained. “He will be our guide to Votirlu.”

Marius shook his head in disbelief. “This is a suicide mission, Cosette. You can’t use your powers, and without them your life is at risk.”

Cosette glared at him. “I have no other choice, Marius, don’t you get it? As long as Patron-Minette possess the power of the Dragon Flame, nothing can stop them. The Flame is a part of me, or at least it was, and if Potionology has taught me anything, it’s that natural bonds like that are the strongest. If I get close enough to wherever they’re keeping it, I think I can get it back.” Her eyes filled with steely determination. “You can drop out of this mission if you want, but I’m going to Votirlu. It’s our only hope.”

“I’m going with you,” Enjolras said firmly, and Grantaire and Marius nodded.

“If you think it’s best, I trust you,” Marius said. “So when do we leave?”

Cosette grinned. “Right away.”

 

 

In Headmaster Thénardier’s office, Babet punched the desk in rage. Claquesous had gone back to check the prison cells, and had found Bahorel’s door wide open with no sign of the boy anywhere. Babet had not taken the news of the Wizard’s escape particularly well. “NO!” he yelled, before taking a deep, calming breath. “Oh, well. He’s chosen his own fate.”

Gueulemer breathed heavily in anger. “I would have liked to see him squirm for a while longer.”

“Well, I suppose that’s the end of that,” Babet sighed, leaning back in the desk chair. “Now it is time to seal the fate of Musain. Claquesous, if you would.”

Claquesous paced over to the open window, and leaned her torso out. “Creatures of the Dark!” she commanded. “It is time for you to rise! _Ausculto Obscuro Tenebrarum!_ ” She repeated the last three words several times until the dark rain began to fall, and the Army of Darkness collected itself. Claquesous grinned down at her pets. “Rise up from the deep, emerge from the abyss! Go out into the world, past the gates of Votirlu, and in our name, DESTROY THE LIGHT! Fill the skies and swarm the earth! May Darkness forever rule this realm!”

The creatures turned in their ranks and began marching towards Musain, followed in the air by the Manta Flyers. Soon the air above the pink and blue castle was teaming with the ghastly creatures, and one of the Wizards who had been assigned to Lookout Duty ran to inform the teachers. “They’re coming from the north-east! Swarms and swarms of monsters!”

The Wizards gathered in the courtyard, drawing their weapons hurriedly and forming ranks. The Faeries were far less organised, simply clumping together in groups. Meanwhile Cosette was explaining her plan to Courfeyrac, Éponine and Jehan.

“We have to go now,” she finished. “I’m sorry we won’t be here to help you.”

“We wish we could help you too,” Jehan said worriedly.

“I know,” Cosette sighed, “but your powers will be of more use here at Musain.” Jehan and Éponine both threw their arms around her, and Enjolras joined the group hug hurriedly. Courfeyrac cocked his head to one side, before hesitantly joining the hug and finding himself half squeezed to death by Éponine’s death grip. Grantaire poked his head out of the wishing well in the centre of Musain's courtyard - they were using to enter the tunnels it was connected to.

“Hate to interrupt, guys,” he said, “but Larbin’s found the right path, and the sooner we leave the better.”

Enjolras and Cosette pulled away from the group hug, and Enjolras transformed into his Faery form. Grantaire ducked back down the well, and Cosette waved to the Amis. “See you later.” _I hope._  She climbed down after him, and Enjolras fluttered after her.

The three remaining Amis glanced up at the sound of guns firing and the accompanying flash of magic. The battle had begun. The air was swarming with Manta Flyers and protective blasts from Wizards and Faeries alike. They ran to join Combeferre, who had abandoned his normal handgun in favour of forming an air-crossbow with a more accurate shot. “Thank the Dragon you’re here,” he gasped. “We’re going to need all the power we have.”

Jehan blasted a Decay Soldier to pieces, but suddenly an unfamiliar voice appeared in their head. _“Jehan!”_  the voice yelled. __“_ Jehan, watch out! Behind you!” _Jehan turned, and their eyes widened at the sight of another Decay Soldier, even bigger than the last, bearing down on them. As the creature swung its huge claw towards them, they threw up their hands to shield their face, and with a flash of pink light the monster dropped to the ground and dissolved into Scrapers. Jehan looked confused - they hadn't made that energy shield - but the voice whispered in their ear again,  _Jehan, it's Azelma. You've been looking after me, now I'm going to look after you._ Jehan's eyes widened - Azelma was still a pumpkin, but her conscious had linked with Jehan's, maybe at some point when they had been talking to her. Jehan had no time to think about that, because more Scrapers flew past their face - the remnants of yet another destroyed Decay Soldier. "Not a very efficient army, is this?" they commented to no one in particular.

Wolter and Ravageur were darting across the battlefield together, searching for a hiding place. Ravageur tripped over his too-big feet, and crashed into the rabbit, knocking them both to the ground. As the two made to get up again, a roar from above distracted them - a Decay Soldier glared down at them, tentacles lashing. Suddenly Lamarque leapt into view, and swung one of his fists into its face, knocking it to the ground. The bunny and the duckling both squeaked gratefully at him before diving for cover in a nearby flower bush.

Courfeyrac turned to Éponine and Jehan. “What are we waiting for? Transform!” There was a flash of purple light, and he was in his Faery form. Éponine and Jehan followed with respective flashes of yellow and pink light, and the three of them took to the air, barely avoiding the fist of a Decay Fighter as it slammed down where they’d been standing.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Éponine snarled at the creature. “Magic Bass Boom!” A flash of magenta light hit the creature in the centre of its body, and it exploded into hundreds of scrapers. Courfeyrac and Jehan grouped out, and the three Faeries raised their hands in preparation.

 

 

At the bottom of the well, about fifty feet down, Cosette glanced back up at the circle of light that was the exit before turning to Larbin, who had found a torch and lit it. The ogre turned down the only corridor, which led to an antichamber that split off in three directions. He _hmm_ ed loudly.

“Well, Larbin,” Marius began, “which way do we go to get to Votirlu?”

The ogre scratched his chin. “I’m not sure. I didn’t spend a whole lot of time in the Musain tunnels. He sniffed, before choosing the path on the right. “Uh, I think it’s this one.”

They set off down the tunnel, and Enjolras fell in line with Grantaire. “So. You’re not a prince.”

“Unfortunately,” Grantaire sighed with a nod. “I’m Grantaire, Prince Marius’ squire.”

“So Marius tricked Cosette and you tricked me,” Enjolras said coolly.

Grantaire nodded. “I suppose that changes everything,” he said sadly.

Enjolras grinned almost wolfishly. “Maybe. Maybe not. First let’s finish this mission. Then I want to have a serious talk with you about the nature of our relationship.”

Larbin stopped abruptly, sniffing the air. Although ogres don’t have the same pinpointing sense of smell as hunting trolls, their noses are far more advanced and accurate than a human nose could ever hope to be. Cosette put her hand on his elbow (the highest point she could reach). “What’s the matter, Larbin? Have you found something?”

The ogre blinked slowly, sniffing from left to right. “I… I dunno,” he said, unsure. “I just… I feel like we’re not alone down here.”

Enjolras grabbed Cosette’s hand. “Don’t worry Cosette. Stay close to me and nothing will hurt you.”

Cosette squeezed his hand gratefully, even though she envied him. Enjolras could easily defend himself from almost any threat, while Cosette had no idea what she was actually going to do if she came face to face with Patron-Minette, as she suspected she would have to.

Larbin continued down the corridor, followed by the Amis, all four of them unaware of the bizarre creature hanging from the ceiling behind them. It had a round body about the size of a basketball, with eight spindly legs, but its body was simply made up of one enormous eye with scaly eyelids. It scuttled quietly after them, gazing unblinkingly down at the group.

 

 

An identical creature sat in front of Babet in Headmaster Thénardier’s office, and the Witch of Ice grinned at it and petted its eyelid. Instead of an eye, this one showed the view that the other creature had of the group in the tunnels. “Yes… _verrrrry_  good,” Babet purred. “Exactly according to plan.” The creature closed its eyelid and scuttled off, leaving Babet to lean back and put his feet up on the desk.

“What are you talking about?” Gueulemer said incredulously. “Our troops are falling back at Musain!”

“I know they are!” Babet snapped. “I instructed them to. I want this war to last a long time, I want Musain to suffer a slow, painful, humiliating defeat! The Army of Darkness is infinite in its size; only the possessor of the Dragon Flame or an equal power can control the size of their ranks. The Faeries cannot outlast our troops, but I want to see as many of them fall as possible before Musain surrenders!”

 

 

The tunnel had once again split three ways, and Larbin paused to sniff the air. His eyes widened at a cawing sound, and he ducked to avoid a craven - a raven-like bird with glowing red eyes, fangs, and a rat-like tail. Cravens are attracted to evil, feeding off it the way vultures feed off corpses, so they knew they must be getting close. However, it was impossible in the gloom to tell what direction it had come from, and Larbin rubbed at his small eyes. Enjolras tapped his boot impatiently on the floor.

“Well? Which tunnel do we take?”

The ogre gave up sniffing the air. “Uh… I… I dunno.”

“No surprise there,” the blond prince scowled. “In the last half hour alone you’ve nearly led us into fourteen death traps, and that was in a tunnel with no branches or splits.”

“Enjolras!” Cosette snapped. “Larbin is doing his best!” She turned to the ogre. “Come on, Larbin. Try sniffing the air again.”

The ogre obligingly inhaled through his nose and pondered for a moment before making a decision. “It’s the middle passage.” He stumped off down it, the group following behind.

Not a moment later they were dashing back down the tunnel, pursued by creatures with the appearance of giant slugs. Larbin tried the passage on the right, and the group found a cave with a ladder leading promisingly up to the ceiling. Larbin climbed up and opened the hatch at the top - unleashing what seemed to be a great deal of the water from Lake Roccaluce into the cave. The entire group, screaming and yelling and generally terrified, was washed into another tunnel leading off the cave.

After some hurried water control from Grantaire and a lot of tugging to free Larbin from a bottleneck, they continued through up along a higher tunnel, only just avoiding being tangled in some unnaturally angry plant roots, and eventually pausing to take a break and sit down when they reached a cave full of oddly shaped rocks.

The rocks moved suddenly, and the group leapt to their feet and hurried on as they realised they’d been sitting on the backs of giant insects. They were in yet another tunnel about 200 feet away from the bugs when Larbin skidded to a halt and sniffed enthusiastically, leaning against the wall. “Hang on a second!” he said enthusiastically. “I know that stink!”

It was then that the wall gave way, and Larbin fell sideways out of the tunnel and into a chute, skidding down to the bottom with a series of thumps and bangs that suggested he was ricocheting off either side of the chute. Enjolras, as the only one who could fly, was sent down after him, wrinkling his nose at the stench that hit his nostrils. A moment after he reached the bottom, his eyes widened and he called back up to his friends, “Guys, get down here!”

Grantaire, Marius, and finally Cosette slid down the chute, more gracefully than the ogre had, arriving in a boggy marsh full of half-rotten food leftovers. “Yeuch,” she groaned at the smell. “That’s fucking disgusting.”

“Such language from a princess is unbecoming,” Enjolras teased, before he shook his head. “Nah. Look up.” Cosette did, and her eyes widened as she realised that the chute was actually attached to Votirlu Castle, which towered above them.

“We’re in the school’s garbage dump,” Marius realised. He squelched over to help Larbin out of the pile of gunk he’d landed in, followed by the others. As they surrounded Larbin and grabbed him by the armpits, a mechanical creak hit their ears. Cosette looked rightfully worried.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to know,” Enjolras shuddered. The four heaved at the ogre’s arms, and as some of the gunk gave way another metallic screech echoed around the dump. With a final tug, Larbin was free, and he sniffed the air for the source of the noise.

Suddenly his eyes went wide. “We have to get out of here. Garbage roaches!”

“Garbage _what _,__  now?” Enjolras shrieked. Larbin pointed at the mud, which had begun to bubble. With a loud, synced screech of metallic joints, several shiny-shelled giant cockroaches emerged from the mud. The difference between these bugs and regular giant cockroaches, was that these ones had huge mouthparts with razor-sharp metallic teeth.

“Giant garbage-eating bugs,” Larbin explained. The roaches began approaching the intruders slowly, snapping their mandibles menacingly.

“There’s, like, an army of them,” Grantaire shuddered. He formed a double-ended water-blade, that appeared to Cosette to be rather like a light sabre from the Star Wars franchise. “Looks like it’s extermination time!”

“No!” Cosette shook her head. “If we start a fight with these things, we risk blowing our cover. Did you hear how loud they were just getting up? Imagine the noise they’d make in a fight!”

“Right, so we just stand here and call them names until they go away,” Enjolras said sarcastically.

“Well, it’s that or be found by Patron-Minette before we’re even inside the castle,” Marius snapped. “Unless you have a better plan?”

Larbin’s yell distracted the teenagers from their argument - a roach had grabbed one of his legs and was pulling his foot up to its sharp teeth. Cosette snatched up a stick and swung it at the roach, which retreated backwards with a creak of its shiny joints, dropping the ogre. Larbin smiled relievedly at Cosette. “Hey, for a Faery with no powers, you still pack a punch.”

“Thanks,” Cosette smiled, but suddenly her eyes widened. “Marius, look out!”

An enormous leg swung out of nowhere, grabbing Prince Marius and dragging him into the air. The largest bug of all - which, unlike its dull-coloured companions, had a bright pink shell - was pulling him up to its gargantuan mouthparts with a creak of its limbs. His arms were trapped, leaving him unable to defend himself, and Cosette ran at the giant insect, which simply swung one of its legs at her, knocking her off her feet.

Grantaire allowed his double-ended sword to vanish, forming a spear instead, but suddenly lowered it. Larbin looked at him like Grantaire had lost his mind. “What are you waiting for? Throw it!”

Grantaire shook his head. “I can’t. It’s moving too much; I’m afraid I’ll hit Prince Marius!”

Suddenly, a cloaked figure appeared out of the shadows, leaping onto the insect’s back, making it drop Marius. The person pulled out a club, smacking the bug around the face with it with a yell of “Someone call for an exterminator?” and the bug began leaping around with the person clinging to its back like a rodeo rider, before they leapt off, landing next to Marius. The bug shook its head and retreated back into the mud, followed by its buddies.

“Hey, they’re all leaving!” Enjolras commented.

“Yep,” the cloaked figure replied. They had an incredibly familiar voice, although it was tinged with an apologetic tone that none of the group had ever heard in it before. “The one I just hit was the leader.”

“Thanks,” Marius smiled, before tilting his head to one side in confusion. “Hey, do I know you from somewhere?”

“What?” the person laughed. “You don’t recognise your old friend anymore?” They flung off their cloak, revealing combat boots, jeans, a ripped punk-band t-shirt and a face surrounded by spiky magenta hair.

“...Bahorel?!” Marius and Grantaire chorused in shock.

Bahorel grinned and nodded.

 

 

Back in the tunnel, which they had concluded must have been the right one, Bahorel explained what had happened following his disappearance from Corinthe.

“So you single-handedly managed to escape from a prison cell that _Patron-Minette_  had locked you in?” Marius said in awe when he had finished. “Wow!”

“To tell the truth, I didn’t make it very far,” Bahorel admitted. “After I jumped out the window, I was sure it was all over for me, but I was lucky - I landed in an outlet of Lake Roccaluce that the school draws water from. I was carried by the current into the dump, but I couldn’t get any further - Patron-Minette has set up a barrier that only those with black hearts can pass through. The tunnels are magic-proof, which is why they weren’t affected. The rest of my stay here hasn’t been that exciting. All I could do was find camouflage and avoid the garbage roaches.”

“Are you kidding?!” Marius said excitedly. “You had to put into practice every survival skill we learned at Corinthe!”

“Yeah, remember Lamarque’s lecture on avoiding dark creatures?” Grantaire laughed, before doing an imitation of the teacher. “‘Never hide downwind, and keep your fingers out of your nose!’”

The group burst out laughing, but Bahorel’s chuckles tailed off quickly, and he looked ashamed. “When I was in that prison cell, I did some serious thinking about how I’ve been behaving, especially towards you guys. Marius, Grantaire? I just want to say how sorry I am for all the horrible things I said and did. You too, Cosette and Enjolras. I was a major asshat to both of you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Marius smiled.

“Yeah,” Cosette said cheerfully. “All is forgiven. Besides, we’re on a mission now, and we’ve got to have each others’ backs.” She smiled at Bahorel. “So, are you with us?”

“A mission to take down Patron-Minette?” Bahorel grinned back. “Hell yes!”

“Good,” Cosette smiled, “because something tells me that this visit isn’t exactly going to be a walk in the park.”


	19. In Which Thénardier Was Not Happy About Being Imprisoned In The Attic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team make it to Votirlu, but don't exactly find what they were expecting... meanwhile at Musain, the Faeries and Wizards prepare for the inevitable final battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm free at last!!! No more exams!!! Also there is pining Courferre in this chapter and idk I'm proud of how cute it is. Hope y'all enjoy!!!

It was about ten minutes walk uphill before the tunnel, which had up until then been carved into solid rock, began changing - the walls were now polished grey blocks of stone, with wooden columns at either side, and strange symbols carved into the sideboard. Larbin nodded in satisfaction. “It’s definitely this way. Come on, just a little further.”

The ceiling was higher now, and the columns had become archways. Cosette was just admiring the torches in brackets on the walls - as creepy as the Witch aesthetic was, they’d gone with a style and it worked - when Larbin flung out a huge arm, pressing all of them against the wall and preventing them from turning the corner.

“What the-” Enjolras started, but Larbin held a finger to his own lips.

“Decay Soldier sentry. We need to be quiet now.”

Cosette peeked around the corner from under the ogre’s arm, and sure enough, a Decay Soldier was standing at the other end of the corridor, facing away from them. It seemed to be getting bigger, yet it wasn’t moving - and then Cosette noticed the Scrapers scuttling along the floor. The Decay Soldier seemed to be absorbing them via its feet, and they were bonding together, creating an even bigger creature as the end product.

“Wait here,” Larbin muttered. He slipped silently around the corner, and carefully felt the stone, eventually pressing a loose brick into the wall. The wall slid open, revealing a secret passage, and the ogre beckoned to them to follow him down it. The wall slid shut behind them, and they followed Larbin to a set of ornate silver doors at the other end of the narrow passage.

Larbin led them through the doors, and into a - dorm room? It had two beds, two wardrobes and two desks - and the floor was a mess. An estate agent would have described it as ‘lived in’, if the agent wasn’t afraid to lie.

Cosette’s gaze was caught by what appeared to be an abandoned duck’s nest in the corner of the room, and that was when it hit her. “Hey, this is Patron-Minette’s room. Larbin, why did you bring us here?”

“He wanted us to see a good example of bad decorating,” Enjolras muttered sarcastically, glaring at the spider-wed adorned ceiling-lights. “Yeuch.”

“From here we have full access to the castle itself,” Larbin explained, pointing to a double door at the other end of the room. Cosette glanced back, realising they’d just come in through the wardrobe. The silver doors were heavily tarnished on this side. She approached the main door and peaked out into the corridor, before quietly darting back into the room.

“The corridor is super-heavily guarded,” she explained. “It’s teeming with Decay Soldiers.”

Larbin shrugged. “Getting out of this room without being noticed isn’t a problem,” he chuckled. “How else do you think Patron-Minette kept me in the castle without being noticed for so long?” He paced to an oval-shaped mirror propped against the wall. It was huge - taller than even Larbin.

“Well, I knew Babet was vain,” Enjolras commented, “but that mirror is ridiculously impractical.”

Larbin shook his head. “Built for spell practise. Also, it hides a passage that will take us down a few stories.”

Bahorel joined him, bowing elaborately to Grantaire. “Ladies first, right Grantaire? On you go!”

Grantaire snorted. “And children after, Bahorel, so you stick close behind me. Nah, I’ll go first anyway. It could be dangerous in there.” Larbin lightly pushed the glass, revealing a narrow corridor, and Grantaire marched resolutely into it, followed by Marius. Cosette and Enjolras went next, with Bahorel and Larbin bringing up the rear, Larbin swinging the concealed door shut behind them.

The corridor turned sharply to the right, and the group started down an enormous spiral staircase, which eventually arrived at an archway into a larger room. Cosette’s eyes widened - this new room was full of staircases going in every direction imaginable, and she got the sneaking suspicion that they were in some sort of world between worlds. Larbin took the lead this time, marching down the only downwards staircase that joined onto the balcony they were on. It could have been hours or even days for all they knew before they reached the bottom, when in reality it had only been five or so minutes. Time seemed to go slower in the staircase room, and Grantaire’s watch had given up the ghost long ago in the tunnels.

As they reached the bottom of both the staircase and the room itself and followed Larbin through an archway on the other side, Patron-Minette’s odd spidery eye-ball-bodied spy caught up to them, gazing down from another staircase and crawling along the wall until it reached the archway, crawling through it and heading along the ceiling.

 

 

Babet gazed into the eye of its counterpart in Thénardier’s office, and gritted his teeth in fury. “DAMMIT!” he yelled. Claquesous and Gueulemer looked up from their respective chairs in front of the desk. Babet took a deep breath, composing himself. “Cousins,” he began, “we have guests. Cosette and a little band of followers have managed to get into our castle. They’re prowling about downstairs.”

“What?!” Claquesous demanded furiously. “How did they get in?!”

Babet’s eyes flashed coldly. “Larbin is with them.”

Claquesous was apoplectic with rage. “That… that… _traitor!”_ she snarled.

“Calm down, Claq,” Babet sighed. “You know, this might be the first time Larbin has ever done anything successfully for us, even if it wasn’t intentionally in our favour. We have the power of the Dragon Flame, so Cosette is no longer of any use to us. We can finally _get rid_ of her, and she can join Mummy Dearest.”

 

 

Classes had been cancelled at Musain in favour of preparing to fight against the imminent attack from Patron-Minette. The Faeries sat and stood around the courtyard in their friend groups, and Éponine, Jehan and Courfeyrac were no different, sitting on the grass nearest the wishing well. Éponine blew out a breath, allowing her long fringe to gently flutter in the wind, before gazing sadly over to the wishing well. “I can’t believe what’s happening,” she sighed. “This should have been a normal school year, but instead the entire Magic Dimension is in danger, and we may be the only ones who can save it.”

Courfeyrac leaned back in the grass. “Look at it this way, Ponine. We’re learning so much more than we would stuck in classrooms and pouring over books. We’re a part of historic events. We’ve created spells that can never be reproduced. We’re fighting alongside some of the most powerful Wizards and Faeries in the entire Universe!” He yelped as someone lightly kicked his side, and looked up at one of his classmates, a boy called Philibert, glaring down at him.

“You’re enjoying all this, aren’t you?” Philibert snapped. “Well, I’m not! I wish I was safe at home with my parents. This whole Army of Darkness thing is quite frankly terrifying.”

Another Faery, Kimmie, put her hand soothingly on Philibert’s shoulder. “I know what you mean, Phil,” she sighed. “I don’t like the thought of being stuck here forever in the middle of nowhere either. You’re right, it is pretty scary.”

Philibert clenched his fists as Courfeyrac sat back up. “I wish that this was all just a dream,” he groaned.

Jehan smiled serenely up at him. “It’s true, things are pretty scary right now. But we’ve just got to trust that we’ll win in the end. We need to have each others’ backs.”

Éponine nodded. “Jehan’s right,” she said firmly. She got to her feet and draped an arm over both Philibert’s and Kimmie’s shoulders. “We’ve all got to be ready. It’s like we’re a big orchestra getting ready for opening night; each one of us is super important to support the others. We all have a part to play in saving Magix. I mean, imagine what Cosette and Enjolras are going through right now! They’re sneaking into Votirlu Castle, Patron-Minette’s literal base of operations, and for fucks’ sake, Cosette doesn’t even have her powers! We need to be prepared to help them from here, no matter what it takes.”

Kimmie smiled in agreement. “You’re right. We can’t allow this to go on.”

Philibert nodded slowly, a slight grin forming on his face. “Let’s give ‘em a screwing they’ll never forget.” He offered Courfeyrac a handshake, and the brunet took it with a grin. A beeping noise from Courfeyrac’s pocket startled all of them, but he smiled.

“It’s just my phone.” He pulled it out of his pocket and checked his messages. Jehan peered over his shoulder, and their eyes lit up in delight.

“It’s from Combeferre?” they asked.

“Uh,” Courfeyrac stuttered. His cheeks were turning very red. “Yeah. Ferre and I…”

“Ooh, nicknames!” Jehan grinned.

“Uh,” Courfeyrac was practically glowing scarlet. “We’re, uh, analysing some, uh, data. We’re developing a new early warning system. To spot attackers, y’know? Later!” He turned and hurried out the side exit to the Corinthe ships, and Jehan grinned like the cat that had got the cream.

Éponine quirked an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen him so…”

“Teenager-y?” Jehan laughed. “Yeah, me neither.”

 

 

On board the ship Combeferre had commandeered for their research, the bespectacled boy was examining the numbers on the computer screen on front of him. “So…” he said distractedly, “let’s compare the data. And then we’ll see if our hypothesis makes sense. If all the numbers are correct…” Courfeyrac glanced over from his own screen, awkwardly making eye contact with Combeferre before glancing away again. Combeferre cleared his throat and continued, “…only sub-spacial interference could delay the energy transmission. But the percentages are so low that…” He glanced over at Courfeyrac again, but the curly-haired boy’s green eyes were fixed on his own screen, a pinkish flush crawling slowly up his neck. “Are you listening, Courf?”

Courfeyrac startled, and pushed his hair out of his eyes. Combeferre couldn’t help but notice the little golden flecks amongst the green of the other boy’s irises. “Yes, of course, Ferre,” Courfeyrac said awkwardly. “You were talking about… low transmission rates, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Combeferre nodded. He removed his glasses, hurriedly polishing them on his cloak, before pushing them back up his nose. “Um, alright then. Could you check the stability levels of the energy barrier, please?”

Courfeyrac obediently pressed various buttons, opening the correct file. As it was downloading, he glanced back over at Combeferre and took a deep breath. “Ferre?”

Combeferre looked up so quickly he nearly knocked his glasses off again. “Yes?”

 _You make me feel things I didn’t know I was capable of feeling. It’s completely illogical, and I don’t know what to do about it, but every time you push your glasses up your nose or call me ‘Courf’ or even **smile,** my heart skips a beat and I don’t know why. _ Courfeyrac shook his head silently and continued loading the statistics. “It’s completely stable. We’re all good.”

Combeferre smiled and turned back to his computer screen. Courfeyrac glared ashamedly at his own. His powers had managed to mix with his emotions, and the numbers on screen were rearranging themselves into a heart-shape. _Stupid weird-ass feelings._

__

__

The group at Votirlu was getting seriously fed up. They had been walking around the secret corridors of the castle for what felt like hours, and they didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. “Everything looks the same in every corridor,” Cosette complained. “For all we know, the Dragon Flame is at the other side of the castle!”

Larbin shook his head. “Don’t worry! We’re nearly at the castle’s crypt. That’s where all the most powerful magic is kept. Your Dragon Flame will be there for sure!” He led them forward a little, pointing to a corridor that split off from the main one at about a 45º angle. “It’s right down that way!”

Marius narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Something’s not quite right down here,” he said aloud. “No guards, no traps. Why is Patron-Minette so sure of themselves?”

“Maybe they don’t know about this corridor,” Enjolras suggested. “A big old castle like this is going to have a ton of secrets. Not even Patron-Minette can know everything about this place.”

Grantaire nodded in agreement. “I think we can risk it. But stay close and be prepared. If there’s something down here that even Patron-Minette doesn’t know about, it’s probably super dangerous.”

The group turned down the passage and continued through the darkness. At the end of the corridor was an enormous pair of double doors that had to lead into the crypt. They were made of silver, but glowed eerily green, and Cosette approached them first. If they were correct, she was but metres away from regaining her powers and once again becoming the most powerful Faery in the known Universe. She inhaled deeply before pushing open the door and entering the crypt of Votirlu.

It was a circular room with eight doorways including the one they’d just exited, each glowing a different colour except for the one directly across from her, made of a dull black metal. But the others formed a rainbow around the room, glowing with different kinds of magic, and in the centre was an enormous bowl filled to the brim with golden flames.

It could only be the Dragon Flame. Cosette gave a breathless little laugh - it could be hers once again. She stretched out a hand towards it - but suddenly leapt backwards with a shriek.

The flames had turned to ice, and with a blast of cold wind, the black doors swung open, and the green ones swung shut, trapping her friends. “Surprise!” Babet chuckled. “That’s not your Flame, Cosette. Your powers are ours now, and they’re out of your reach. You will never get them back. You lose, Faery!”

Cosette grit her teeth furiously. Claquesous prowled towards her, grinning nastily. “Thanks to you, Cosette, we have become the most powerful beings in the Magic Dimension. It’s a shame you’ll never tell anyone.”

Babet joined her, his blue eyes flashing. “And you wanna know why you’ll never tell anyone?” He leaned close to her, and Cosette was forcibly reminded of the night her powers had been stolen. “Because the crypt of Votirlu will be your grave!” He raised his hand, preparing to finish the job, but a burst of scarlet light behind him knocked all three Witches off their feet, sending them flying into the wall. The green doors swung open, and her friends charged into the room, but Cosette paid them no attention, for she was completely focussed on the source of the scarlet light.

Headmaster Thénardier stood in the doorway of the black doors, his figure glowing with the same sort of intensity Cosette had used to defeat Patron-Minette in the alleyway and the forest. The Head Witch looked absolutely raging, and he marched past Cosette to stand between her and Patron-Minette. “Good evening,” he hissed at the three Witches. “Remember me? Your old Headmaster from when you were students here? I cannot say I’m particularly impressed with where my teachings have led you in life.”

Babet slowly got to his feet. “So, Professor Thénardier. You managed to escape - what do you think you’re doing?” The older Witch’s hands were glowing with scarlet light, and he raised them into the air.

“Giving you three a time out!” Thénardier snarled, and in a flash, two walls of light that stretched from floor to ceiling appeared, shielding himself and the group from Musain from the Witches. He turned to the Faeries, Wizards and ogre, ignoring Gueulemer throwing himself at the shield in an attempt to destroy it, and being flung back against the wall. “Run, you fools!” he snapped. “The shield won’t hold them back for long!”

Cosette, Enjolras, Marius, Grantaire, Bahorel and Larbin turned and sprinted out through the black doors, finding themselves in a main corridor of the castle. Thénardier had paused a few metres clear of the doorway, and raised his hands once again. Stone spikes sprouted from the floor, walls and ceiling, pointing in every direction and effectively sealing off the crypt. He ran after the Musain group, passing them easily as they had no idea which direction they were supposed to be running in. “Follow me,” he yelled back at them. “We need to get to the Windswept Terrace. It’s the only way out of the castle!”

 

 

In the crypt, Babet raised his hands, and in a flash, the shields froze and shattered. The rocky spikes would take longer though, and he snarled in absolute rage, sending blasts in every direction. His cousins backed slowly away from him with a wince.

 

 

As they headed up through the corridors to the Terrace, Enjolras caught up with the professor. “So we’re going to leave the castle in the hands of Patron-Minette?” he asked. “We’re not going to fight them? They could destroy it - your school, the students’ belongings, the magic kept within the castle.”

Thénardier sighed. “I am well aware of that, Prince Enjolras. Headmaster Myriel had warned me about them, but I wasn’t about to let myself be awed by three silly young Witches - that was a big mistake. The fact that myself, Myriel and Lamarque managed to overpower their ancestors fifteen years ago doesn’t mean we’re invincible. The truth is, we must always keep our eyes open. Safety can never be guaranteed or taken for granted.”

They headed up some stairs that looped outside of the castle and up to the Windswept Terrace - a flat expanse on top of the part of the building that the crypt was in. The student Witches were already waiting for them, wearing long purple cloaks. One of the Witches, a boy with glossy black curls and red lips, handed Thénardier a folded red cloak. “Here, professor.”

“Thank you, Montparnasse,” Thénardier replied. He fastened the cloak around his neck and pulled the hood up. “Alright, everyone,” he addressed the students and the rescuers. “Stand back. I’ll open a dimensional portal to Musain.” He raised his hands, which glowed his signature scarlet, and in a flash, a portal had appeared above the Terrace. The student Witches stepped into it, and were lifted into the air, passing through the portal two or three at a time. About half of the Witches had passed into the portal when a sudden thumping from the stairs leading back down to the crypt made Thénardier’s eyes widen. “The Army of Darkness!” he yelled. “They’re coming! Everyone, hurry!”

Cosette glanced at the stair case, and sure enough an entire squadron of Decay Soldiers was marching up it, more than halfway to the top. Prince Marius narrowed his eyes. “Headmaster! Get everyone out, I’ll create a diversion.”

Thénardier nodded, pulling one hand away from the maintenance of the portal. “Use this!” With a bang, a hover-bike appeared. It was sleeker and newer than any of the ones at Corinthe, with a different build. Marius’ jaw dropped.

“The Space Spider 4000,” he whispered. “It’s not even in shops yet!” He ran over to the bike and climbed on, and with a metallic clunk, sleek sliver armour clicked onto his body. A helmet appeared on his head too, with a scarlet window for his eyes. He looked a bit like some sort of futuristic medieval knight.

Cosette’s eyes widened. “No, Marius, it’s too risky!”

“It’s worth the risk if it will save the Universe,” Marius replied. Through the window of his helmet, his hazel eyes sparkled with determination.

Cosette thought for a second, before her own eyes took on the same glint of determination. “Alright. Then I’m going with you.” She climbed onto the bike behind him, and the same sleek silver armour and matching helmet clicked onto her own body. She wrapped her arms around Marius’ waist and smiled back at Enjolras. “Don’t worry, Enj. We’ll be back soon.”

Enjolras nodded, and followed Grantaire, Bahorel and Larbin into the portal. Thénardier followed them, and as he vanished, so did the portal. The Witches were safe, but several Decay Soldiers were now surrounding the hover-bike and approaching it menacingly.

Marius revved the engine, and pulled the bike in a circle. Cosette held on tight as they collided with one creature after another, knocking them off the roof, but more monsters were climbing up the staircase after them. Marius glanced back at her, and Cosette smiled encouragingly at him. The redhead gave a discreet nod, and put the engine into full throttle, driving into a newly formed squadron of Decay Soldiers as he flew the bike off the edge of the terrace.

Cosette nearly screamed, but forced herself not to so that she wouldn’t distract Marius from driving. He managed to steer the bike over to the walkway that led up to the front door of the building, and they headed down towards the road to Magix City. Unfortunately, it seemed that Patron-Minette had got free, as the air was crackling with the electric green lightening they had come to associate with Gueulemer. The Army of Darkness was marching through the front doors of the school, and it wasn’t long before the creatures made it to the road too. Marius turned down a different path to head them off - the last thing they needed was for the creatures to follow them to Musain when the Witches were still weak from the prison cells. He urged the bike forwards, but suddenly pulled it to a halt. “Cosette,” he said worriedly, “I think there’s something blocking the road in front of us.”

Cosette squinted at the thing he’d noticed, and her eyes widened. “Oh, shit! Decay Soldiers! Patron-Minette must have had them stationed there as sentries!”

Marius pulled the bike around, but the Squadron that Patron-Minette had sent after them were nearly upon them. Cosette shrieked suddenly. “Marius, the Scrapers! They’re on the bike!” Sure enough, two or three Scrapers had clung to the side of the bike, and another few had actually crawled onto Cosette’s armour.

“Hang on, Sette!” Marius assured her. “I’m going to accelerate the bike to full speed, it should make them lose their grip!” He revved the engine, and the bike sped off down the path. They just barely managed to miss the claws of the Decay Soldier sentries swiping at them, but they seemed to be home free - until a sudden blast of lightening hit the road in front of them.

Marius swerved to avoid it, barely missing a second blast, but he didn’t manage to evade the third blast. Cosette glanced back worriedly, and her eyes widened at the smoke billowing from the back of the bike. “Marius, we’ve been hit!” Marius turned sharply to avoid yet another blast, but there was nowhere to turn, and with a crash, the bike went flying off the side of the road. Cosette clung to Marius and Marius clung to the bike, and with a splash, they crash-landed in what seemed to be an irrigation ditch.

Marius breathed out slowly, and turned to Cosette. “That was a close one. Are you alright?”

Cosette nodded. “I’m fine, but I have absolutely no idea where we are!”


	20. In Which Maybe It's Not So Bad To Be Lost With The Guy You Like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When we last left Marius and Cosette, they had crash landed in an irrigation ditch in the middle of Roccaluce Forest. Enjolras and the team had escaped to Musain with Thénardier and the Witches, and Patron-Minette were not happy about it. And now we learn their fate...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! I live!! Apologies for the long time between updates, I suffered writers' block and adult expactations (aka I'm an adult who has to do adult stuff now so yeah).
> 
> Fortunately, some of that stuff is preparing for college!! I'm off to college in September, and I'm so pumped!!! (Because I thought I wouldn't be able to go, but turns out I can!!! Wooo!!)
> 
> Hope this super long chapter makes up for that!!

Green lightening flashed above Magix City, illuminating the deserted streets, and the thunder echoed dully behind it, bouncing off the street corners in a way it could never have done when the streets had been busy. Magix had fallen to the Army of Darkness shortly after the last attack on Musain, and there wasn’t a soul in sight. This was unbeknownst to Marius and Cosette, however, still lost in Roccaluce Forest. They had since pulled the bike out of the irrigation ditch, and Cosette leaned against a tree while Marius knelt next to the bike and examined the engine. She jumped when he headbutted the saddle in frustration and looked up at her.

“It’s useless,” he groaned. “The damn thing’s a wreck, Gueulemer’s lightning did a number on the energy collector.”

“So what do we do now?” Cosette asked. She would have laughed at the red mark on his forehead if the situation hadn’t been so serious.

Marius got to his feet and dusted off his armour, which surprisingly hadn’t vanished when the bike broke down. “As it stands, we don’t have much of a choice. Our best chance is probably to head towards Magix City and hopefully find some help. I dunno… At least we got rid of those creatures,” he joked, attempting to make light of the situation. Cosette huffed a laugh, and the two began heading north-east towards Magix City in silence.

 

 

At Musain, Headmasters Myriel and Lamarque stood at the top of the front steps, surveying the damage and occasionally pausing their conversation to comfort students. The Army of Darkness hadn’t been seen since the last attack, and everyone was on edge. Eventually Myriel sighed. “Well, we might have won that particular battle, but I fear that the next attack will be far more violent.”

“Not to mention, we still haven’t heard anything from the kids at Votirlu,” Lamarque sighed. “Or from Headmaster Thénardier at that. We need to find a way to respond more quickly and efficiently to their assaults. If we lose this war, the consequences will be both tragic and catastrophic.”

They were interrupted when Courfeyrac came sprinting up to them, followed closely by Combeferre. “Headmaster Myriel, Headmaster Lamarque!” he gasped, panting. “Our early warning system has detected a temporal distortion near the well!”

“It could be another attack!” Combeferre added frantically.

Myriel squinted over at the well, and several students shrieked as the air in front of it warped and glowed scarlet. Myriel grinned though. “No need to panic, students. This isn’t the Army of Darkness. It’s Headmaster Thénardier and his students - and some of our students too!”

Indeed, Thénardier, his fellow teachers, the student Witches, Enjolras, Grantaire, Larbin, and - to everyone’s surprise - Bahorel, had appeared in the centre of Musain’s courtyard. Myriel headed over to greet him with a relieved expression on his face. “Thénardier, welcome to Musain. And welcome to all of your faculty and students too.”

Thénardier removed his hood. “Thank you, Myriel. Although it is thanks to your students and Lamarque’s too that we were able to escape those three power-crazed Witches.”

“Well, now that you and your students have joined us, I believe our chances of defeating them are far greater,” Myriel smiled.

While Myriel led Thénardier and the student Witches inside to get settled in, Grantaire and Combeferre were hugging in greeting, and Grantaire was talking animatedly to him and all the other Wizards in the surrounding area about everything that had been happening. Bahorel awkwardly skulked behind him, unsure of how to greet his classmates.

Enjolras had transformed back into human form, and he was immediately embraced by Courfeyrac, Jehan and Éponine. Jehan pulled away from the hug to greet Cosette, but an expression of confusion came over their face when they didn’t see her. “Enjolras, where’s Cosette?” they asked concernedly.

Enjolras’ eyes, to the surprise of his friends, welled with tears. “I… I don’t know what happened to her,” he whispered. “She and Marius stayed behind at Votirlu to hold off the monsters so the rest of us could escape. I promised I’d keep her safe, but what if she got hurt? Or worse?” he sniffled. “I’m so worried about her.” Jehan rejoined the hug, and Enjolras tired desperately not to start crying for real. _Cosette, where are you?_

 

 

Cosette was uninjured, thankfully, but feeling very lost. She felt like they’d been walking in circles for hours. She hurried to catch up to Marius. “Are you sure that this is definitely the quickest route to Magix City?”

Marius shook his head. “It’s not the quickest, but it _is_ the safest. You remember how when we went troll-hunting, the Black Mud Swamp was almost deafeningly silent? It absorbs sound, I don’t know how, but it’s excellent cover.”

“Is Magix City still standing, even?” Cosette voiced her concerns. “We don’t know how long we were in those tunnels for, or the Votirlu corridors. It have been burnt to ashes. Musain could have fallen for all we know!”

Marius stopped and put a hand on her shoulder. “Calm down, Cosette. Let’s worry about getting there before we worry about anything else.”

Cosette sighed unhappily. “Marius… I’m scared. And I’m useless to you; I have no powers, and I don’t even have proper wilderness survival skills to help you. I’m a burden to you.” It had been on her mind since the bike had crashed and they’d realised they were stranded in the forest.

Marius looked incredulous. “You’ve lived most of your life without using or even knowing about your powers, Cosette! You weren’t a burden then, and you’re not one now.”

“You don’t get it!” Cosette snapped. She sat down on a nearby rock and put her face in her hands. “My powers meant that I didn’t fit on Earth, but now that they’ve been stolen I don’t fit here either! Marius, I don’t fit anywhere! My entire identity has been ripped to pieces repeatedly, and forgive me for saying this, but I’m _fucking sick_  of trying to stick it back together every time!”

Marius, to his credit, only blinked in confusion once before sitting next to her. “Cosette, your powers don’t define your identity. You’re still the same person inside. And the Cosette I know, who I lo- who is my very good friend, would get up and continue fighting to save her friends with or without her powers. What do you say?” He got to his feet and offered her a hand, and after a moment, Cosette took it with a shaky smile. She got up, and the two continued through the swamp, only now they moved as one rather than two.

It had been about half-an-hour of silent trekking through the mud and between the trees, when Cosette suddenly jumped and clutched at her companion’s arm. “Marius! Did you hear that?”

Marius looked confused. “Hear what?” He sounded confused too. “I didn’t hear anything.”

Cosette squinted up at the canopy of treetops above them. She could have sworn she’d heard the sticky sound of two gloopy things being peeled apart. “…Never mind…” she said slowly when she didn’t see anything. “It was probably just an animal. We should keep moving.” They continued on, both unaware of how close Cosette’s guess had been. The spidery, eyeball-bodied servant of Patron-Minette was crawling from branch to branch, gazing at them intently. The sound Cosette had heard had been it opening its eyelids after closing them abruptly to protect its sensitive eyeball from a falling leaf, and now it unblinkingly followed them.

 

 

Babet glared into the eye of the servant’s counterpart in Thénardier’s office. “Those idiots have somehow managed to evade our army’s grasp, and now all of our prisoners have found refuge at Musain,” he snarled.

Claquesous hummed in confusion. “Cosette and her red-haired prince aren’t with them though,” she murmured. “They’re in the forest near Magix City. Strange…”

“Cosette doesn’t matter to us anymore,” Babet shrugged. “She’s powerless and weak, and her only protection is a Wizard who can barely form a weapon let alone wield it.” He waved his hand, and the counterpart shut its eye and scuttled off.

Gueulemer grinned. “I think it’s time to properly focus on the conquest of Musain.”

Babet nodded in agreement. “Fetch the book, Claq. We’re going to summon the full extent of the Army of Darkness. Musain will shake under its might.”

Claquesous obediently grabbed the book from the desk, and flipped through it until she found the correct incantation. The three Witches clasped hands in a circle around it, and together began chanting, _“Plenissimum ueneris et hostes vincere conplete! Imple manum ineptias verba carmen!”_

Outside the castle, the army formed into its ranks. Each monster was twice as large as it had previously been, and there were five times as many of them. They swooped in the air, and stomped their feet on the ground, and howled for their masters to come and instruct them.

 

 

At nightfall, most of the students and staff had headed to bed, but Myriel, Lamarque and Thénardier were gathered around Myriel’s desk, and Myriel laced his fingers and rested his chin on them lightly. “Professor Thénardier,” he began. “We all know that the magic that those three Witches now possess does not correspond in any way to what you’ve been teaching them at Votirlu. My worry now is what has become of Cosette and Marius.”

“Indeed,” Lamarque agreed. “Marius is a daydreamer by nature, but when he’s focussed he’s an excellent fighter. And from what I’ve seen of Cosette, she too is a formidable opponent. If _they_ have not made it out of the clutches of Patron-Minette, we need to fear the worst.”

“Let’s not forget, Cosette’s powers have been stolen,” Myriel pointed out.

“I think we all know what has become of those powers,” Thénardier sighed. “Myriel, I have good reason to believe they are still alive. We simply need to hope that they are alright, and focus on the fight ahead of us. I fear that Patron-Minette’s next attack will be far more devastating.”

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. The early warning system that Courfeyrac and Combeferre had designed promptly set off all the alarms in the school, and with good reason - in between the loud wails of the siren, the throaty shrieks of the Manta Flyers were audible, and they were getting rapidly louder and closer.

Myriel turned to the window, and saw the students dashing out of their dormitories/temporary sleeping quarters, the Wizards hurriedly pulling on cloaks and forming weapons while the Witches and Faeries transformed and took to the air.

Enjolras, Courfeyrac, Jehan and Éponine stuck together, hurriedly transforming. As a Decay Fighter slammed its fists towards them, Enjolras summoned his sceptre and used it to teleport them out of the way, reappearing behind it. Jehan blasted the creature with green light, binding its arms to its sides with vines and tripping it up. When a second Fighter approached its trapped companion, Éponine and Courfeyrac leapt into the air and blasted it with magenta and green sparks, causing it to disintegrate back into Scrapers.

Unfortunately, the Scrapers split into four groups, forming four Decay Soldiers, and at the same time, the bound Fighter dissolved its body and reformed away from the vines. Enjolras groaned loudly. “Y’know,” he commented to no one in particular, “it would be nice if they stayed defeated for once!” He followed his friends back into the battle.

 

 

In the forest on the other side of the Black Mud Swamp, Cosette and Marius had decided to take a break and get some rest. Marius had managed to build and light a camp-fire, and now Cosette was staring into the flames almost longingly. “Maybe we should have gone on,” she murmured.

Marius shook his head. “We haven’t had any sleep since we were on the ship back from Domino. We’re of no use to anyone if we’re too tired to fight. We need to get some rest, and then we’ll continue on to Magix City tomorrow.”

“But what about Patron-Minette?” Cosette pointed out. “They could easily find us here.”

“I don’t think they care, to be honest,” Marius replied. “They have your powers, and that’s all they wanted from you. If they wanted to kill you, they would have done so when they stole the Dragon Flame.”

Cosette nodded slowly. “Right,” she sighed, drawing her knees up underneath her chin and wrapping her arms around her shins. _I’m worthless._

“Cosette,” Marius said sternly, almost as if he knew what she was thinking. “There’s nothing wrong with not having magic powers. It doesn’t change who you are.” He lay down on his side, supporting his head on his arm. “Now let’s get some sleep, and tomorrow we’ll get to Magix City, and find a way back to Musain. Keep in mind that Patron-Minette now has to deal with Myriel, Lamarque _and_  Thénardier all working together.”

Cosette lay down on her side too, so that she was facing Marius. Despite the fire, she found herself shivering a little, and she looked over at the red-haired prince across from her. After a moment, she took a deep breath. “Marius?”

Marius opened his eyes. “Yeah?” he replied.

Cosette opened her mouth, but then her nerve went, and she shook her head. “Nothing. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Cosette,” Marius responded. If Cosette had been a little more alert, she might have noticed the unhappy tone in his voice, tinged with a flavour of longing and love.

 

 

The courtyard of Musain was completely overrun with monsters, and the students were fighting twice as hard - because by this point they had to worry about protecting injured friends too. A particularly small Wizard nicknamed Petit Gervais had suffered a Decay Soldier claw to the back, and Grantaire and Bahorel stood in front of him, shielding him from the creature’s continued advances. With a slash of Grantaire’s broadsword followed by a swipe of Bahorel’s sabre, they gouged two deep cuts in the Decay Soldier’s chest, but to the annoyance of both Wizards, the cuts healed instantly with no marks.

“This army of worms is indestructible!” Bahorel yelled in frustration.

Grantaire’s broadsword burst into water droplets, and he instead formed the double-ended sword. “Indestructible or not, let’s see how it deals with this!” he snarled, spinning the sword like a baton. He leapt towards the monster, and in a flash, there was a deep cut through its neck. Bahorel took a flying leap at the beast, and kicked its head off, sending Scrapers flying in all directions.

“Ha!” the magenta-haired boy grinned. “Got it!”

“I’m not so sure we did,” Grantaire groaned, because, sure enough, the Scrapers were reforming into another Decay Soldier. Both boys took combative stances and prepared to attack again.

Overhead, a Manta Flyer swooped down, heading directly for Wolter, who yelped and began digging a hole in the ground. He ducked into it as the Flyer flew past, and continued digging when the coast was clear. _Bunnies,_  he decided as he burrowed, _are not built for battles._

The Manta Flyer continued towards where Courfeyrac and Éponine were fighting, and with a swipe of its tentacles had grabbed Courfeyrac under the arms and snatched him into the air. Éponine shrieked in shock, but Courfeyrac only looked annoyed.

“What do you think you’re doing, you loathsome son-of-a-bitch?” he snapped. With a flash of green light, the tentacles were severed from its underside, and the rest of its body disintegrated. Courfeyrac landed on his feet, and created a bright green shield to protect himself from the Scrapers.

Across from him, Lamarque was goading an approaching Decay Soldier. “Come on, you filthy beast!” he grinned. “You want to dance?” The Soldier lunged at him, and Lamarque formed a fire sword with a chuckle. “So you’re a barn dance man, huh?” he slashed one of the creature’s arms clean off. “Really more of a two-step man, myself!” With a flash of his blade, the monster had a deep cut across its chest - and to Courfeyrac’s surprise, it didn’t instantly heal. The fire had singed the Scrapers themselves, and the beast dissolved and reformed smaller, leaving the injured Scrapers behind.

Courfeyrac blinked in surprise. “Fire can wound them!” he realised. “But Headmaster Lamarque, I thought you used water powers?”

“I’m a Heart Wizard,” Lamarque explained, already duelling the reformed Decay Soldier. “I can pull energy from nearly all elemental sources. It’s a very rare power, and it means that I’ll never be hugely proficient at controlling a single element, but it gives me something of an advantage in surprise attacks!” He slashed the sword at the creature’s legs again.

“Fascinating!” Courfeyrac murmured. Éponine grabbed him by the collar.

“Is this really the time to be talking about power sources?” she snapped, gesturing to the Decay Soldier bearing down on them.

“Oh crap,” Courfeyrac muttered. “Right. Let’s take this thing d- Ferre! Look out!”

Combeferre looked up, and ducked to the ground with a yell as a Manta Flyer with particularly large tusks swooped down at him. Courfeyrac blasted the Flyer with green light, and it turned and fled with a screech. “Pick on someone your own size, you slimy prick!” Courfeyrac yelled after it.

Combeferre snatched his crossbow off the ground, and fired a bolt at the retreating Flyer, causing it to burst into Scrapers. “Take THAT!”

Headmasters Myriel and Thénardier stood back to back in the centre of the battle, surrounded by Decay Soldiers - it was as though the beasts could tell that these two were the bosses. Neither of the men looked particularly scared or even worried, however - Myriel wore an expression of pure anger, while Thénardier looked rather bored with the whole scenario. With a flash of lilac light that swept over the battlefield, several monsters dissolved - only to instantly rebuild themselves. It seemed fire was the only thing that could wound them, and unfortunately Lamarque was the only one present who could control it. Myriel sighed worriedly. Cosette and Marius were their only hope.

 

 

The next morning, Marius stretched and sat up, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He gazed fondly over at Cosette, who was still asleep, and chuckled a little at her spectacular bed-head. The young prince got to his feet and stretched again, before tapping Cosette lightly on the shoulder. “Wake up, Sette,” he said softly. “We have to keep going.”

Cosette yawned and groaned, before sitting up and attempting to smooth down her hair. “What time is it? I think I just completely crashed out last night.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Marius smiled. “It’s still pretty early, maybe 6 or 7am, judging from the sky. We both feel better now - or at least, rested. If we start now, I’m guessing we’ll be at Magix in about four hours if we keep a good pace.” He helped Cosette to her feet, before scattering the burnt remains of the camp-fire to cover their tracks, and the two once again headed into the woods.

They had been walking for maybe an hour, when, like the day before, Cosette jumped at a sudden noise. The difference was, this time, it sounded like a human-ish voice. She passed it off as her imagination, but five minutes later she heard it again, no mistake.

_“Euphrasie!”_

She grabbed Marius’ hand. “Surely you must have heard that, Marius!”

“Heard what?”

“A voice,” Cosette whispered. “A human sounding voice, a woman calling my birth name… Euphrasie.”

 

 

At Musain, the relentless attack had finally ended, and the Army of Darkness had retreated back to Votirlu. Wizards, Faeries and Witches alike were scattered around the courtyard, some waiting for treatment, while others sat with their friends and simply rested. Myriel gazed down at the courtyard from his office window, before turning to the two other Headmasters sat across from him. “Well, it’s been nearly three hours since their last assault,” he sighed, sitting down.

Thénardier leaned back in his chair. “I have a strong suspicion that they are merely toying with us,” he voiced eventually. “These attacks are not truly using the full might of the Army of Darkness. They’re weakening us with these attacks, cutting down our defences before they annihilate us completely. The only way to truly defeat the Army of Darkness is to attack and defeat the source.”

Lamarque inhaled sharply. “In other words, we must confront Patron-Minette. Three power-crazed, ruthless Witches who possess one of the greatest powers in the universe. Piece of cake.”

 

 

Enjolras, to the surprise of many, had not joined the other Amis, but was rather sitting alone, leaning against the wall of the castle, dabbing ineffectually at a cut on his arm that was bleeding profusely. Grantaire sat down next to him and batted the blond boy’s hand away, grabbing the tissues off him. “No, you want to put pressure on it,” he muttered. “Like so.” He pressed the wad of tissues against the wound and held it steady. Enjolras watched with wide eyes.

“Where did you learn about medical-y stuff?” he asked curiously.

Grantaire looked as though he’d rather not answer that question, but obligingly replied, “Part of my squire training. You might not have noticed, but Marius doesn’t exactly have a great deal of self-preservation instinct.”

Enjolras looked even more curious. “What exactly is a squire, if you don’t mind me asking? I never had a squire growing up. What do you do?”

“It’s… mmph,” Grantaire groaned. “I’m not really sure how to describe it. It’s sort of like being a cross between a bodyguard and a companion, but… I dunno. Marius is more than just my employer. Everyone expects the prince of Eraklyon to be dreadfully rude and snobby, but he’s a genuinely good guy, and I’m lucky to know him.” Grantaire pushed a stray ebony curl out of his face and pulled the wad of tissues away. “Do you have a bandage?” Enjolras obligingly passed him the bandage Nurse Dahlia had given him, and Grantaire wrapped it neatly around his arm, covering the cut and clipping it into place with a safety pin. Enjolras’ arm sorted, he leaned back against the wall again. “Like I said, Marius is more than my employer. He’s my best friend.” He chuckled softly. “I used to love being a squire. It pays handsomely; keeps my family comfortable and my little sister looked after. For years I thought it was the best job in the world.”

“What changed?”

Grantaire looked incredibly unhappy, and it felt a little like a knife was being twisted into Enjolras’ heart. He was about to reach out and touch his shoulder with his uninjured hand, when Grantaire spoke again. “I met you, and I realised that a lowly squire isn’t the boyfriend wanted by someone as -”

“As what?” Enjolras bristled, withdrawing his hand. “Wealthy? Powerful?” The knife twisted a little deeper.

“...amazing as you,” Grantaire finished. He turned away from Enjolras, hiding his face, but not before Enjolras noticed his lip tremble a little. “I should go. I’m sorry.”

Enjolras felt his heart melt, and he grabbed Grantaire’s hand hurriedly. “Grantaire, wait! You talked, now it’s my turn.” Grantaire obediently turned back towards him. Enjolras smiled happily at him. “I don’t care that you’re not royalty. I’ve never cared about that stuff. I mean, look at my parents. They’re both born royalty, and where did that get them? Divorce court. I don’t care about marrying a prince, Grantaire. I care about being with _you.”_ He leaned forwards and placed a light kiss on Grantaire’s lips, internally rejoicing when Grantaire didn’t push him away.

Grantaire grinned back almost deliriously when Enjolras pulled away. “Really?”

“Really really,” Enjolras smiled. “I love you.” His cheeks coloured, and he clapped his hands over his own mouth. He hadn’t meant to say that, dammit! But a lovely smile was spreading across Grantaire’s face, and Enjolras couldn’t find it in himself to regret blurting it out. Grantaire was the one to lean in this time, and they kissed again, longer and slower this time.

When they had to pull away for breath, Grantaire leaned his forehead against Enjolras’. “I love you too,” he whispered happily.

“AAAAAAWWWWWWW!!!!” came a loud squeal from in front of them, followed by a dull thud and a hiss of, “SSSSSSSHHHHHHHH!!!” Enjolras and Grantaire both looked up to see Éponine clamping her hand over Jehan’s mouth, while the flower Faery rubbed their arm where she’d clearly hit them. They both grinned apologetically at the two boys sitting against the wall.

Grantaire’s cheeks coloured beautifully. “Your, uh, your friends are watching us,” he mumbled embarrassedly.

Enjolras grinned. “Let them watch!” With a snap of his fingers, a pillow materialised, and began hitting both Jehan and Éponine around the faces. While the two Faeries shrieked delightedly, Enjolras happily pulled Grantaire in for another kiss.

Éponine batted the pillow away. “Bitch,” she stuck her tongue out at Enjolras.

“Don’t you guys have something better to do?” Grantaire chuckled. Enjolras laughed too.

“Be nice to them, they’re my friends. I’m the only one allowed to torment them,” he giggled.

“There you are!” A sharp voice from behind Éponine and Jehan made all of them look up. Courfeyrac and Combeferre were flanking Bahorel, and all three looked serious. Bahorel continued, “The Headmasters want to speak to all of us. Now.”

Enjolras and Grantaire got up, and the group headed over to where the other students were gathered in front of the steps. Myriel, Lamarque and Thénardier were stood at the top of the stairs, with grim expressions on their faces. The Faeries, Wizards and Witches split into their various groups, and Myriel addressed them.

“Any minute now, we will have to face another attack by Patron-Minette,” he began. “Professors Lamarque and Thénardier agree with me that the only way we will stand any chance of defeating them is if we work together and combine our powers.”

Thénardier took over. “Keep in mind that Patron-Minette are driven by hatred. They have no idea what the power of unity can achieve.” A shrieking caw in the distance made everyone look up. The approaching Manta Flyers were visible above the treetops of the forest, and students and faculty alike took up defensive positions.

 

 

The caws of the dark creatures were loud enough that Cosette and Marius, no longer in the silent confines of the Black Mud Swamp, could hear them. Cosette glanced up at the sky, and her eyes widened at the site of thousands of Manta Flyers heading in the direction of her school. “Oh God, they’re heading straight for Musain!”

Marius looked up, and his eyes widened too. “We’ve got to get to Magix City, and fast!”

Cosette was about to agree with him, but at that moment the voice called out to her again. She’d been ignoring it for the better part of an hour, but this time it struck a chord inside her, and everything suddenly clicked. _“Euphrasie! Euphrasie!”_

“I can’t go to Magix City,” Cosette murmured. “First I need to go to Lake Roccaluce.” It made complete sense to her all of a sudden, and she felt dim for not getting it before. Only one person called her Euphrasie, and that person was known to be connected to the nearby body of water…

“What are you on about, Cosette?” Marius asked. His hazel eyes were full of bemusement, but Cosette almost didn’t notice. Everything was just so clear all of a sudden.

“Fantine, my mother… she’s calling me. She has something to tell me, and to see her I need to go to Lake Roccaluce,” Cosette explained. “Myriel told me ages ago that she can sort of manifest in the places she was most connected to during her life. She manifested at Domino’s castle, so it stands to reason that she can appear in the Lake. It’s something to do with my powers, I’m sure of it!”

Marius still looked confused, but to his credit he didn’t question her sanity at all. “In that case, I’m going with you.”

Cosette shook her head. “No, Marius. I need to go alone.” This was one thing she was sure of - Fantine wanted a private audience with her. “You go on to Magix City, I’ll catch up.”

Marius didn’t look happy, but he nodded. “As you wish. But if I don’t see you in two hours, I’m coming back to find you.”

Cosette squeezed him in a quick hug, before turning and heading through the trees towards the lake. Running through the trees in her armour, she almost felt like a video game character. Only this was one level she couldn’t afford to lose.

 

 

The fighting had resumed at Musain, as bloody and fast paced as ever. It really was becoming quite a tiresome battle; you took one beast down and another instantly sprung up in its place. Grantaire ducked to avoid a Manta Flyer, before turning and grabbing it by the tentacles. He climbed onto its back, formed a broadsword, and stabbed it through the body. As the creature disintegrated into Scrapers, Enjolras grabbed Grantaire’s hands and flew him back down to the ground, before flying back to help the other Faeries.

A shock came in the form of a particularly large Decay Fighter climbing up one of the castle’s towers. It raised its enormous fist, and with a horrible crunch of glass and stone being pulverised by dark magic, punched a hole through the side of the structure. Another swing, and the tower crumbled in on itself. The sound of roof tiles flying everywhere punctuated the normal screams and blasts of the battle soundtrack, followed by Myriel’s yell of horror. Enjolras was briefly distracted, but then remembered he and his friends were currently flying directly in the path of the Manta Flyers. With a swipe of his sceptre, they vanished and reappeared behind the swarm, and Éponine raised her hands. With a flash of magenta light, billions of Scrapers fell to earth, and Courfeyrac and Jehan dived down to the ground to fight the rapidly forming Decay Soldiers.

Up on the steps, Myriel, Lamarque and Thénardier were stood together, hands raised. “Citizens of Musain” Myriel shouted. “The time has come to combine our powers!”

“Warriors of Corinthe!” Lamarque added. “Now is a time for defence! We must protect our friends and family!”

“Students of Votirlu!” Thénardier finished. “Let us reveal the might of our magic!”

The students each stopped their attempts to fight the creatures, and cast their most powerful shield charms. Light magic, neutral magic and dark magic combined to form an enormous golden dome over the castle, forcing the Army of Darkness outwith the boundaries of the school. With a final furious shriek, the monsters retreated back to Votirlu, and the dome vanished. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and a cheer went up. They had finally managed to force back the Army of Darkness, however brief the time before the next attack.

 

 

At Votirlu, Patron-Minette watched the outcome of the battle through Thénardier’s crystal ball. Babet snapped his fingers, and the image vanished. “Alright, that’s enough!” he snapped. “I’ve had it!”

Gueulemer looked more frustrated than Babet had ever seen him. “I’m tired of sitting back and doing nothing!” he raged. “We’re basically just watching them fight, withdraw, rinse and repeat.”

“We’re all-powerful!” Claquesous agreed. “We have the power of the Dragon Flame, so let’s use it already, dammit!”

Babet glared at his reflection in the now blank crystal ball. “If the Dragon Flame is what it takes to crush Musain, then so be it,” he hissed out. “Cousins, prepare for another attack. Only this time, we will be at the helm. It is time for us to take control of our armies properly. I want to see with my own eyes the extermination of our enemies, and when Musain has fallen, I will be the one to watch the light leave Cosette’s eyes as she crumples to the ground at my feet!”

 

 

Marius had reached Magix City at last, but it was a shocking sight. The streets, normally filled with punters, were completely devoid of movement. Here and there, bodies were cocooned to the walls and the ground, covered in the same gunk that made up the bodies of the Army of Darkness. “No… It’s not possible,” Marius murmured in shock, then louder, “IS ANYBODY THERE?”

The only answer was his own echo.

 

 

On the bank of Lake Roccaluce, Cosette sighed softly. Her armour dissolved, and she hurried to kick off her shoes and strip off her outer clothes until she was only wearing her T-shirt and boy-shorts. She dipped a foot into the water, experimentally feeling for the lake-bed. When she found it, she waded into the lake and out until the water was lapping at her waist and the sandy ground crumbled away. Cosette dipped her face into the crystal water and gazed down to the bottom of an underwater cliff. Straightening up, she took a deep breath before diving head-first into the water.


	21. In Which Jehan Is More Powerful Than We Give Them Credit For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final battle is approaching, and Cosette is walking into a lake in the hope that her mother is at the bottom of it. Meanwhile, Courfeyrac makes a breakthrough and Jehan puts his theory into practice...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a while to write, so I really hope it's worth it!!

Enjolras leaned against the apartment’s balcony and breathed a heavy sigh. The most recent attack over, Myriel had insisted that everyone go and grab what sleep they could, but the Amis had all found themselves unable to rest. Courfeyrac was going through Jehan’s books while typing away on his PDA, Éponine and Jehan were both talking to Azelma in soft voices, and Enjolras was left alone with his thoughts. Palladium had repaired the glass Enjolras had shattered back during the very first attack, but it would take a lot more work to fix the tower and rebuild the classrooms inside it.

The blond boy turned and paced back into the dorm, shutting the balcony door behind him. “Patron-Minette are getting more aggressive with every attack,” he thought aloud. “Musain can’t hold them off much longer. And I miss Cosette.” His eyes felt like they might well up, and he blinked furiously. “I really hope she and Marius are OK.”

Jehan nodded in agreement, staring sadly down at the pumpkin that was currently home to Azelma’s conscious. Éponine noticed their gaze, and said in an alarmed voice, “Jehan Prouvaire, you’re not thinking about giving up on my sister, are you?”

Jehan jumped a little, and shook their head. Courfeyrac continued typing away on his PDA, and Enjolras sank down into an armchair. _How is this going to end?_

 

 

In the depths of Lake Roccaluce, Cosette twisted around in the water at the sound of a crunch of rocks, and noticed a pileup of boulders crumbling away from a cave mouth. It looked reasonably similar to the cave from the vision Myriel had shown her forever ago, and she swam to the mouth, her hair swirling behind her like a cloud of gold. She peered into the cave, blinking through the murky water. The huge pink rock in the centre of the cave confirmed it. This was the Siren’s Cave, and if Cosette was correct, Fantine wanted her to come here.

Cosette approached the central pink rock, but suddenly flinched backwards, screwing up her eyes as the cave filled with light. In a flash, the water drained out of the cave, and Cosette heaved a deep breath, looking up at what or who had performed the magic. She found herself both utterly shocked and not surprised at all when the only thing she could see was a ball of pink light floating in the centre of the cave.

_Fantine._

Cosette found herself smiling properly for the first time in days. “Mum? Am I dreaming?”

Fantine’s ethereal chuckle echoed through the cave. “No, Euphrasie.You are very much awake.” The light glowed brighter, and Cosette could sense a smile in Fantine’s voice. “Euphrasie, my sweet daughter, listen carefully. You haven’t lost your powers, darling. Look over there, towards the Sacred Altar!”

Cosette looked at the giant rock in the centre of the cave. On the side, a grainy image was appearing - Jean Valjean’s face, smiling down at her… the two of them ice-skating together… Cosette two years ago, picking out Wolter at a shelter… In real life, Cosette blinked in confusion. “Mum… those are my memories,” she said confusedly.

“Yes. You were brought up on Earth by a loving, caring man, who adored you enough to let you go when the time came.” Fantine sounded a little embarrassed. “I may have been poking around your mind using our psychic link. It’s useful for that, you know.”

“Muuuuuuum!” Cosette complained, although she couldn’t really be too mad at a ghost. “What does that matter? I let him down, same at Musain. I didn’t meet anyone’s expectations, and now I don’t belong anywhere.”

“Euphrasie,” Fantine, for some inexplicable reason, sounded proud. “You’re still the same person, and your past will forever belong to you. And the same applies to your powers. No one can take them away from you.”

Cosette was trying to understand, but all she felt was utter discombobulating confusion. “So… why don’t my powers work?” she demanded. “Why was I unable to protect myself when I needed to? And how have Patron-Minette been able to use the Dragon Flame?”

“Remember your classes, Euphrasie,” Fantine told her. “There’s a memory in there somewhere of a lesson on emotions and their effect on your powers.”

Cosette screwed up her face in thought. “Emotions can affect your powers positively or negatively, based on their chemical structure,” she recited after a moment. “Positive emotions, like happiness or the desire to protect, have a positive, amplifying effect on your powers, but negative emotions, such as self-doubt or heartbreak, can diminish their effectiveness. It was in one of the textbooks for Professor Fauchelevent’s class.”

“Exactly!” Fantine beamed. “I have such a brilliant daughter!”

“Muuuuum!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Fantine laughed sheepishly. “Help now, gush later. Right, so, remember what had happened right before Patron-Minette attacked you?”

Cosette’s cheeks flushed. “I duelled Céleste and found out that Grantaire was actually Marius who was engaged to Céleste.”

“You were heartbroken and betrayed,” Fantine said. “Your powers were weakened, and Patron-Minette took advantage of that.”

“But that still doesn’t explain how they have been using the Dragon Flame!”

“Right, yeah,” Fantine said. “So, they didn’t steal your powers exactly, but they have borrowed a little bit of them. They’ve been feeding off your powers, rather than actually owning them. When you confronted them at Votirlu, did you notice anything different about them?”

Cosette thought hard. “They…” she said slowly, “they were all wearing little crystal necklaces. They weren’t obvious, but I could see them.”

“Vacuums,” Fantine said thoughtfully. “Well, now I know what we’re dealing with, that makes this a lot easier. You’ve been doubting yourself, and you believed you had no powers, so your body kind of cut off access to them. Believe in yourself again, and you’ll be able to transform. Destroy the Vacuums, and you will regain your full power.”

“How do I do that?”

“Believe in yourself,” Fantine said cryptically. Cosette’s annoyance at a practically useless answer like that must have been obvious even to someone literally on a different astral plane, because Fantine chuckled and added, “Also, that full-body glowy thing that happens when you get really mad? That’ll probably help.” Her light was glowing dimmer, and the cave was beginning to fill with water again - Cosette’s feet were already submerged.

“You’re leaving?”

“Astral projection takes a lot out of anyone,” Fantine said defensively. “And this is definitely not the last time we’ll see each other. Take care, darling Euphrasie, and kick ass. Oh, and tell that Prince of yours to treat you right, otherwise he’ll have your vengeful ghost mother haunting him!”

“Muuuuuuum!”

Fantine’s laugh echoed around the cave again, the only evidence that she had been there at all. Cosette realised that the water was rapidly rising, and as it reached her neck, she focussed hard and shouted to the walls, “Transform! Cosette, Faery of the Dragon Flame!”

The surface of the lake, previously still, suddenly bubbled with fiery magic, and with a bang, Cosette broke the surface of the water, transformed into her Faery form. Her wings were fluttering, her body was glowing, and her eyes burned with determination.

 _I’m back, Magix,_  she thought to herself. _Patron-Minette won’t know what hit them._

__

__

In the Amis’ apartment, Courfeyrac suddenly leapt up. “I’VE GOT IT!” he screamed delightedly. He realised his volume, and chuckled awkwardly before continuing. “I think I’ve figured out how to save Azelma.”

Éponine and Jehan both ran towards him eagerly - Éponine literally leapt over Enjolras’ armchair and flung herself onto the sofa, while Jehan attempted to copy her but gave up halfway through and accepted their new position splayed across Enjolras’ lap. Enjolras attempted to push Jehan off, realised they weren’t budging, and turned back to Courf. “How?!”

Courfeyrac rubbed at his eyes. “It’s a fascinating equation,” he explained. “Azelma is trapped in a body that’s not her own, but it’s not like she’s actually trapped in a pumpkin - she __is__ the pumpkin, so it would take more than just a basic splitting spell to cure her. I figured that if I took a constant and worked a known equation for it backwards, I would eventually get to the point where it was in its prime form. It’s like algebra, but with some weird-ass stuff they don’t teach until you’ve already got two or three qualifications in it.”

Éponine groaned. “No offence, Courf,” she sighed, “but how is maths going to save Azelma?”

“I was getting to that part,” Courfeyrac said defensively. “So I did the equation, and I realised it looked a whole lot like some of the sentences in Jehan’s book. I switched the maths symbols for the alphabet of the long-dead-language from the essay, used a keyboard cipher to roughly translate it, worked out the kinks, and boom. I have a way to save Azelma.”

“And you couldn’t just tell us how to save her?” Éponine said, half grumpily, half in amusement.

Courfeyrac looked jokingly affronted. “I might _die_  in the next attack, Ponine!” he said dramatically. “Let me brag about my mathematical achievements first, OK?”

All four of them chuckled nervously, but death had become a very real concern by this point. Patron-Minette was ruthless, and Musain simply didn’t have the literal firepower to beat their armies. Courfeyrac led his friends over to the table Azelma was perched on, and they gathered around the bright orange pumpkin.

“So,” Courfeyrac continued. “The book isn’t particularly descriptive, but I found enough. We need to connect with Azelma’s essence if we want to restore her.”

“We wossy-wassy-hoo now?” Éponine said in confusion, but Jehan was nodding slowly.

“I think I get it, Courf. Did the essay give any more details?”

“Just a few. To free her, you have to be able to recognise the difference between Azelma’s essence and the dark magic, and to do that you have to share her conscious.” Courfeyrac looked understandably worried. “I’m not really sure what that means, though. And the essay didn’t say much else.”

Jehan, however, was grinning. “You’re in luck,” they smiled. “Plants are definitely my thing, and sharing their conscious-space is kinda my jam. How else do you think Yorick got to be such a perfect specimen of Narratioflore Magnocaeruleo?” None of the Amis were going to debate them on this, and Jehan continued, “I think I can free her, but y’all might want to stand back.”

Éponine, Courfeyrac and Enjolras all obligingly stood back, and Jehan placed their hands on the pumpkin’s sides. To merge with someone else’s conscious, one has to first empty their mind of all other thoughts and be at peace with the surrounding environment. For a beginner, it’s nearly impossible, but Jehan had been practising conscious-merging since they were ten, and they were pretty damn good at it.

Jehan stroked the pumpkin’s skin, gently twirled its leaves, and closed their eyes. The pumpkin was soon the only thing on their mind, and they felt their own conscious briefly slipping away as it merged with Azelma’s. The essence was a mixture of deep blue and unhappy black, and Jehan focussed on the blue, as the black could only have been the dark magic. _Hi Azelma. It’s Jehan here. Reach out and take my hand!_

The room filled with bright golden light, and the Amis all flinched away, screwing up their eyes, but Jehan ignored it. _Come on, Azelma! Nearly there!_

The blue was now the only thing they could see, and they concentrated on it as hard as they could, but Éponine’s scream jolted them from their trance, and Jehan opened their eyes in surprise. “Éponine!”

“Azelma’s gone!” Éponine shrieked. Jehan looked down, and nearly screamed themselves - indeed, the pumpkin had vanished, and the tabletop was bare.

A soft coughing behind them made all of the Amis turn. Their collective jaws dropped at the sight that greeted them: Azelma was standing on her own two legs, back in her own body. Jehan had done it.

Éponine rushed at her little sister and flung her arms around her. “ZELMA!” she shrieked. “You’re back! Oh, thank the dragon you’re alright!”

Azelma hugged Éponine back tightly, smiling at Jehan over her shoulder. “Thank you so much, Jehan,” she said quietly. “I owe you my life.”

“Our entire family owes you,” Éponine added. Tears of happiness were pouring down her cheeks. “You and Courf are both miracle workers.”

 

 

Half an hour later, Enjolras had retreated back to the balcony, when movement below caught his eye. He grinned upon recognising the boy pacing below the balcony, and poked his head back through the door. “Dreadfully sorry to interrupt,” he smirked, “but there’s a tall, good-looking Wizard pacing up and down underneath our balcony, and I think he’s looking for Éponine.”

Éponine looked up from where she and Jehan were sandwiching Azelma on the sofa. “Don’t be ridiculous, Enjolras,” she rolled her eyes, before turning to Azelma. “Are you sure you’re OK?” Azelma nodded. “In that case, I think I’m going to go for a little walk.” She got up and exited the apartment, and Azelma grinned.

“Sure, a _walk_ ,” she chuckled. Jehan laughed with her.

Énjolras went back out to the balcony. “Hey, Bahorel! I think she’s coming down!”

Bahorel stopped pacing and squinted up at Enjolras. “Who is?” he asked, but his flushed cheeks gave him away.

“Aww, come on, you know who,” Enjolras giggled. “Don’t play innocent.” He vanished back inside the apartment, and Bahorel’s attention was caught by one of the doors opening. Éponine emerged, blinking, into the sunlight.

“Oh,” she said softly. “Hi, Bahorel.”

Bahorel’s cheeks coloured even more. “Oh. Hey, Éponine. Uh, listen, they don’t teach us how to do this at Corinthe, but I just wanted to say I-really-like-you-and-you’re-pretty-much-the-coolest-person-I-know-and-I’m-really-sorry-for-that-time-I-let-the-Witches-beat-you-up-and-also-for-generally-treating-you-horribly-OK-gotta-go-now-bye!” He said all of this in one breath, before turning and fleeing back to the cafeteria where the Wizards were staying. Éponine was left looking astounded, bemused and rather flattered.

 

 

Lightening continued to flash over Magix City as Marius paced the streets, looking for anyone who’d escaped the Army of Darkness. An abandoned soda can rolled past his feet, and he batted a piece of newspaper out of his face. It blew off with the breeze, and he called after it.

“Hello? Is anyone there? CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME?!”

He tripped, and looked back at what he’d tripped over, his face going pale in shock. A body, cocooned in the slime that built the Army of Darkness, lying frozen on the pavement, the face set in a permanent empty scream. He backed away from it slowly. “What have they done?!” he whispered to himself.

Behind him, a Decay Soldier sentry emerged from the shadows, waving its tentacles menacingly. Marius turned at the sound of its heavy breathing, and leapt away from the creature with a yelp, raising his hand and forming a fire sword. He ducked as the monster slashed at him, and made to swing at it with his sword, but the creature dodged the weapon and swung its other claw at his stomach. The sword flickered out, and Marius hurriedly formed it again.

“Come on!” he yelled. “I’m not afraid of you!”

The Decay Soldier roared, and several Scrapers that Marius hadn’t noticed before scuttled across the ground and climbed up its legs. The Soldier absorbed them, and its body grew even bigger, until it towered about seven feet above Marius rather than the normal four. Marius narrowed his eyes before leaping at the beast.

 

 

The Manta Flyers circled the towers of Votirlu castle, like they had been since Patron-Minette had called off the last attack. It had been hours, but suddenly there was movement below. The Soldiers and the Fighters were exiting the castle, forming into their squadrons with the Scrapers scuttling at their feet. Cravens, drawn to the stench of evil, joined the Manta Flyers in their masses. The three largest Decay Soldiers, however, had exited the ranks, and were standing obediently at the back of the army, and the Scrapers were climbing up their bodies. Something was different this time, however. Normally, the Scrapers would merge into the Soldiers’ bodies, but now they were only merging with each other. The Decay Soldiers were slowly being covered in mountains of Scrapers, and at the top of each mountain, the little beasts formed a spiky maroon throne. At the top of each throne they formed a diamond-shaped frame, and the inside of each frame lit up with a different coloured light - green, violet and blue.

The three members of Patron-Minette swooped down from the sky to land in their own throne. Gueulemer landed in the green-lit one, sprawling his legs out and leaning back. Claquesous perched elegantly in the violet throne, crossing her legs and resting her chin in her hand. In the blue throne, Babet lounged like a king, grinning down at his minions. “This time, us three Witches will enter the battle ourselves,” he announced. “We will personally destroy every Witch, Wizard, and Faery who tries to resist us. To Musain!”

The army began to march in the direction of the Faery school, and the thrones moved at the back of the group, the Witches gazing haughtily down at the road ahead of them.

 

 

The Amis walked across the courtyard of Musain with Azelma, and Jehan flinched as lightening cracked across the sky. They turned to Azelma. “You’ve spent more time around Patron-Minette than we have, Azelma. What do you think they’ll do next?”

Azelma shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. I’ve never seen them so full of hatred and power.”

“I think they could use a time-out on the naughty step,” Enjolras cut in jokingly. Courfeyrac gave him A Look.

“Is now really the time for jokes, Enj?”

“What else am I supposed to do?” Enjolras snapped. “If I’m not joking, I start panicking about Cosette, and that isn’t doing any good for anyone. At least this way, we might get in a few sniggers before we die.” All five of them fell into an awkward silence, interrupted only by a scuffling noise as Wolter emerged from his burrow and pattered over to Courfeyrac, who obligingly scooped him up.

“We all miss her,” Courfeyrac said quietly. He softly stroked Wolter behind the ears. “But we have to be strong and keep fighting if we want any chance of seeing her again.”

“I’m sure she and Marius are OK,” Éponine said firmly. “They’re probably just having a little trouble getting back to Musain or something. I’m certain they’ll be back soon.”

Myriel watched the Amis crossing the courtyard with a frown on his face. _Only 16, and they’re showing signs of battle fatigue. There is so much wrong with this image._

 

 

The Army of Darkness continued to march in the direction of Musain, and Babet grinned down at his troops. This was going better than he’d ever anticipated, and without the magic schools - home to the most powerful Faeries, Wizards and Witches in the dimension, as well as the strongest students - out of the picture, the rest of the universe was as good as theirs. He and his cousins were so delighted with their own brains, wit and good fortune, that they didn’t notice the tiny flicker of positive magic pass over them as they crossed the warning system’s tripline.

 

 

In Musain’s cafeteria, Lamarque had challenged Thénardier to a game of dominoes. They were nearing the end of their final match, and as Lamarque slapped down another domino, Thénardier sighed angrily. “All this waiting around is driving me crazy. Those three twisted little Witches still have my school in their hands, and all we can do is wait for them to come to us.” He slapped down one of his own dominoes.

“Indeed, but it is important to remain calm,” Lamarque reminded him. “Now more than ever.” He placed his second to last domino down, confident he would win.

Thénardier squinted at Lamarque’s domino, before replying, “Yes, but my patience is wearing very thin.” He placed his final domino down with a grin, and Lamarque’s jaw dropped, before he smirked.

“But not so thin as to distract you, I see,” he chuckled. With a snap of his fingers, the dominoes vanished, before he heaved a great sigh. “You’re absolutely right, old friend. It _is_ the waiting that is hardest to bear.”

Outside, Grantaire, Combeferre and Bahorel sat on the steps, at a bit of a loss. The conversation had died about ten minutes previously, before Combeferre spoke up. “Maybe they ran into trouble and have had to hide somewhere.” They’d been exchanging theories as to why Marius and Cosette were yet to make it back to Musain.

Grantaire gnawed on his lower lip. “Do you think they’re OK?”

Combeferre nodded. “I’m sure they are. You know how dramatic Marius can be; he’s probably choosing his moment to come back to Musain.”

“The hiding theory would make sense,” Bahorel nodded. “Patron-Minette controls Magix now. Anyone going near the city would have to watch out for sentries.”

“You’re probably right,” Grantaire sighed. “Cosette’s probably in more danger here than out there, since she doesn’t have her powers. Maybe they’re lying low, waiting for the dust to settle or something.” He was babbling by this point; anything to avoid thinking about what horrible fates could have possibly befallen his best friend.

The Amis sat down next to the three boys, and Courfeyrac let Wolter down. The little Dutch rabbit skipped towards Ravageur the duckling, and the two began playfully fighting over a twig.

“Any news, guys?” Éponine asked. Bahorel shook his head.

“Sorry, Ponine. We got nothing.”

“Everything has stopped,” Combeferre explained. “Everyone is just waiting for the worst to happen.”

Jehan squinted up at the dark clouds overhead. “Normally I’d be totally into some supernatural weather,” they sighed, “but now it just makes me nervous. The sky is too unnaturally dark.”

“It’s been days since we’ve seen the sunshine,” Enjolras added, cuddling against Grantaire.

Courfeyrac blew his fringe out of his face and shyly placed his hand on top of Combeferre’s. It wouldn’t do anything to vastly improve the situation, but it was comforting when Combeferre took his hand and lightly squeezed it.

Professor Fauchelevent’s shout broke the silence of the courtyard. “The early warning system!” he shouted, gazing frantically at the computer screen that Courfeyrac and Combeferre had set up what seemed like forever ago. “The Army of Darkness has passed the first tripline! And this time they have even more dark power than ever!”

Myriel dashed over to view the screen, and his jaw dropped. “This could only mean one thing,” he muttered, before turning to the students gathered around him. “Patron-Minette themselves are entering the battle this time. Everyone, prepare to fight harder then you’ve ever fought before. Take up your positions, we won’t be caught by surprise!”

Wolter dashed back to the burrow he’d dug earlier, this time with Ravageur at his heels. The bunny and the duckling huddled together in the tunnel, and Wolter sniffed the air cautiously. Something very bad was definitely on its way.

 

 

The sky above Magix City flashed with more unnatural lightening as Marius narrowed his eyes at the Decay Soldier and raised his sword again. The creature roared back, and raised its right pincer into the air. To Marius’ shock, the lightening zapped onto the creature’s pincer, turning into a long, hooked, scythe-like appendage. Gueulemer’s magic was doing its job at keeping the army strong, and Marius was forced to roll backwards out of the way as the claw came slashing down at him. The hook was sharp and strong enough that it made a dent in the concrete, and the Decay Soldier began struggling to unhook it. Marius used its preoccupation to his advantage, and with a slash of his sword, cut the entire arm clean off.

The Soldier roared in anger, and the fire had singed the Scrapers, preventing the arm from reforming. _Finally, some good news._  The monster shrieked again, getting to its feet, but Marius’ attention was caught by a second, much heavier set of footsteps behind him. He turned, and to his horror, an absolutely enormous Decay Fighter was bearing down on him from a side street. The redhead backed away from both of them, making sure they were still in his sight, but a squelching noise, this time above him, made him turn again.

Another Decay Soldier was forming on the roof of the Museum of Magix, obscuring the carving of Queen Fantine on the façade as it leered down at him - well, as much as a creature with no proper mouthparts can leer. It leapt to the ground with a crash, and Marius felt his heartbeat speed up unhealthily rapidly. He was surrounded.

With a deep breath, Marius raised his chin defiantly. “I refuse to surrender!” he shouted at the beasts. “I’ll never give up! If I must die now, I’ll die fighting rather than on my knees!” He closed his eyes to collect himself again, but suddenly a golden-orange glow lit up his eyelids, and against his better judgement, he opened his eyes.

He was surrounded by fire magic, and for a brief second Marius wondered if he was exploding, but put that thought to bed fairly quickly. These flames weren’t his own bright blue, but were a bright, warm golden colour, and they glittered in a way that seemed rather familiar. What sounded like a dragon’s roar cut through the air, and Marius squinted through the glow at the Decay monsters, who were flinching away from the flames. With a bang so sudden he nearly missed it, the flames enveloped the monsters, before suddenly vanishing. Both Decay Soldiers and the Decay Fighter were completely gone, seemingly dissolved by the flames.

Marius opened his eyes fully, and gazed in amazement up at the flames’ source. A silhouetted figure fluttered in the midst of a cloud of flames shaped like a dragon, and as the dragon vanished too, and the figure landed next to him, Marius felt his jaw drop. _It can’t be… but she’s lost her powers… and yet, it is…_

“Cosette,” Marius gasped in amazement, for it could be no other. Cosette was stood in front of him, wearing the glittering blue top, skirt, arm-warmers and boots of her Faery form. Her tiara glittered in her hair, and her little white wings seemed to glow with ethereal light.

“Marius!” she exclaimed, and that was unmistakeably her voice. “Are you alright?! I didn’t hit you, did I?!”

“I’m… I’m fine,” Marius stuttered. “You’re an excellent shot as always, Cosette. What… what happened?”

Cosette looked pensive. “I don’t really know how to explain it,” she said thoughtfully. “It was odd. But I spoke to Fantine - I mean, my mum. It was nice. I think she helped a lot.” Suddenly she threw her arms around him. “I’m glad you’re OK though, Marius. I was worried I might be too late.”

Marius squeezed her tightly. “You had perfect timing. I would have been toast without you.” He loosened his hold, and the two slowly let go of each other. Marius grinned shyly, and a similar smile briefly flickered over Cosette’s face, before she turned serious again.

“Now, what the hell has happened to Magix City?”

Marius led her over to the steps of what had once been a dance club and pointed to at least a dozen cocooned bodies stuck to the steps and walls. “Magix has completely fallen prey to Patron-Minette’s army. The streets wreak of evil and destruction. I… I couldn’t find any survivors.”

Cosette approached one of the bodies and felt it carefully. “I think… I think they’re still alive,” she said slowly. “Just in some sort of suspended state. I would use my magic to restore them, but that would risk burning them. I think the best course of action is to defeat the evil at its core.” She turned back to Marius. “And Musain?”

Marius shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, Cosette. No news.”

Cosette’s face crumpled with worry. “Oh God, Marius! Our friends! Enjolras, the Amis, everyone! They could be injured, or dying, or, oh Christ, what if they’re already -”

“We don’t know that Cosette,” Marius said firmly. “I’m sure they’re OK. Think about it. There would probably be a ton more guards in Magix City if Patron-Minette didn’t need to focus all their energy elsewhere. My bet is, our friends are putting up one hell of a fight.”

Cosette nodded. “True. But even so, they can’t hold out forever. We’ve got to go help them.” She snapped her fingers, and Marius’ question of how they were going to get there died in his throat. The dragon-shaped flames appeared again, and wrapped around his body. Instead of burning, they felt like a warm blanket at the end of a long day. Cosette beat her wings, and Marius felt his feet leave the ground. He glanced up, and Cosette was fluttering at the dragon’s head, guiding it towards Musain, a familiar glint of determination in her dark blue eyes.

_Never change, Cosette. Never change._

 

 

“I couldn’t care less what you think, Gueulemer,” Babet snapped. The storm Witch had found issue with marching rather than teleporting, and Babet was having none of it. “This is how I want things to be done. Magix must see the might of our troops.” He glared up at the sky until one of the Cravens fluttered down onto his shoulder. “Fly ahead of the troops,” he instructed it. “When you reach Musain, wait a minute and then return. I want to know how far away we are!” The Craven spread its wings and zoomed off ahead of the army, and Babet turned back to his cousins.

“But don’t you think Musain has a rested-and-prepared big-ass advantage over us?” Claquesous pointed out. Babet narrowed his eyes.

“Our only weakness, cousins, is your stupid fear! The power of the Dragon is in our hands! - or hanging around our necks, if we’re being technical. What could you _possibly_  be afraid of?!”

 

 

As the students and faculty alike took up their positions, Thénardier stood on the battlements next to Myriel with a severe expression on his face. “This battle is going to be bloody and vicious,” he warned. “Patron-Minette are ruthless.”

Myriel sighed unhappily. “I know, Thénardier, but what other choice do we have? There will be casualties either way, but at least this way we stand a chance of defeating them, as opposed to simply bowing at their feet for them to cleave our heads from our shoulders.”

Thénardier winced. “Myriel, I -” he began, but Myriel interrupted him.

“You don’t have to feel responsible, Thénardier,” he said firmly. He gazed out over the courtyard with a frown. “This battle isn’t the only thing concerning me at the moment.”

“Are you referring to Cosette and Marius?”

“I wish I knew what happened to them,” Myriel said softly. “I… I don’t know if I should tell you this, but…” he tailed off.

“Hmm?” Thénardier narrowed his eyes in curiosity, and Myriel took a deep breath.

“Never before in the history of the Magical Dimension has a Faery truly lost her powers through the ill will of some entity.”

“And?” Thénardier prodded.

“If this is what has happened to Cosette, if she has truly lost her powers, then I hope for Dragon’s sake that she has not lost herself too.” Myriel squinted out at the landscape. “Her powers are extraordinary, and she has even more control over them than possibly Queen Fantine herself. I’ve never seen anyone take to their powers as quickly as she has. She _cannot_  have lost them.” Thénardier winced internally at the desperate tone in his old friend’s voice, but continued to gaze fathomlessly out over the trees surrounding Musain.

 

 

In a tree just across the road in front of the castle, the Craven gazed down at the rallying troops of students and teachers. It cawed softly before spreading its wings and fluttering through the woods, only leaving the cover of the trees when it reached the Army of Darkness. The mangy-looking bird fluttered down and landed on Babet’s shoulder, cawing softly to him, and the ice Witch stroked its beak with a cackle.

“Back already?” he grinned. “You didn’t go very far then, did you, good boy! You didn’t miss much!” _Nearly there,_  he thought to himself in delight. _Nearly there, and then Musain will truly feel my wrath!_

 

 

In the courtyard of Musain, the computer beeped again. The Army of Darkness had passed the second tripline. Everyone tensed. Only a few minutes before the battle began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it turns out Fantine is one of my favourite characters to write... she wants to be all mystical and mysterious like "woooo Euphrasie listen to your spooky dead mother who is trapped in another dimension!" but she's too much of a dork for that XD I love her so much.
> 
> Only one chapter to go!! I'm already planning the second part of this series, so the ending of this fic is going to be emotionally satisfying, but not everything will be resolved...


	22. In Which Cosette Has Absolutely Had It With Patron-Minette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final battle is about to begin. The Amis are ready. Cosette and Marius are ready. Patron-Minette is super ready. It's time.

It was time. Every inhabitant of Musain stood perfectly still, holding their positions, gazing up at the gathering storm clouds. The stakes had never been higher; this was more than a fight to defeat Patron-Minette.

It was a fight to save the Universe. And it might cost them their lives.

Stood in their ranks, Enjolras reached forwards and squeezed Grantaire’s hand comfortingly. _Don’t worry._ Grantaire squeezed back, and they continued to wait for Patron-Minette’s impending arrival.

 

 

As the pink stone walls and blue roofs of Musain castle came into view, Babet grinned and leaned back in his throne. They had arrived, finally. Time to do battle.

The Army organised itself into its squadrons in front of the castle, and for a second, absolute silence fell as attackers and defenders alike gazed at each other. The silence was broken when Babet spoke a single word:

_“Attack.”_

With a scream, the Manta Flyers swooped down, and the battle began. Myriel and Thénardier had created a magical shield around the school that sent the dark creatures flying when they tried to pass through it, but Patron-Minette didn’t seem at all perturbed; in fact, Gueulemer seemed rather delighted at this development, roaring with laughter.

“Do they really think that their dumb barrier can stop us?” he chortled, before getting to his feet and standing on the seat of his throne. He raised his hand, and green light briefly flashed in the shape of a dragon before lightening crashed into the barrier, cracking it open.

Jehan hurriedly blasted golden light at Gueulemer, attempting to knock him off his throne, but the Witch easily ducked, snuffing out the light with a flick of his wrist. “Cute,” he sniggered. Jehan grit their teeth, but had no time to send another blast, for the Army of Darkness had begun marching towards the gates and the wall on either side of them.

Faeries and some of the more experienced Witches took to the air, while the Wizards and the younger Witches shot at the army from the towers and the ground. Some of the Wizards, led by Professor Palladium, were shooting at the ground in front of the wall, creating a blast barrier that Patron-Minette’s Army couldn’t pass without risk of being shot. However, constant magic use like that is very wearing for most magical beings, and it wouldn’t be long before the Wizards were forced to take a break and recharge.

Babet grinned down at the rapidly tiring Wizards, leaned back in his throne, and closed his eyes to soak up the chaos of the battlefield. He’d missed this - the screams of the Faeries, the crash of collateral destruction, just being on the battlefield and watching his enemies fall. He’d nearly reached a state of Nirvana, when a bright golden flash lit up his eyelids and made him open his eyes. His jaw dropped at the sight before him.

“What the…”

Golden-orange flames higher than the tallest Decay Fighter surrounded the school, making the Army of Darkness flinch back. A low roar made the entire battlefield shake, and something long and glowing swooped down over the courtyard, depositing something on the ground, before flying back into the air and twisting around to face Patron-Minette.

It was a dragon.

The thing it had deposited in the courtyard groaned and got to its feet, revealing itself to be none other than Prince Marius. Grantaire dashed over to him the second he recognised him, with a cry of, “Marius! You’re alive!”

Marius chuckled, and accepted his best friend’s relieved hug. Grantaire let him go after a second, and together they joined their friends, classmates and teachers in gazing up at the dragon in the air. Grantaire let out a low whistle. “Is that who I…?” he began.

“Yep,” Marius grinned.

“But I thought… how?”

“No idea.”

The dragon dimmed in brightness, revealing first a human silhouette at its heart, which became slowly sharper until everyone could see the petite frame, golden hair, blue clothes, white wings, and dark blue eyes of Cosette. The Princess of Domino had finally returned, and she grinned down at the astonished onlookers gazing up at her.

“Hi everybody!” she grinned. “Sorry I’m late to the party. Mind if I join in?”

Babet was apoplectic with rage. “It’s… It’s not possible!” he shrieked. “NO!”

Cosette beamed at him. “Hi Babsy! You thought you’d got rid of me, huh? Well, you thought wrong!” Gueulemer growled angrily, and Claquesous let out an __eep__  of shock, but Cosette paid them no mind and shot an enormous fireball directly at Babet, reducing his throne to a pile of cinders.

Babet’s cousins stared at the place Babet had been sitting mere seconds before, but the smoke cleared, revealing that the Witch of Ice had not been destroyed in the blast. He was hovering just above where his throne had been, and he glared furiously at Cosette, the vein in his temple looking like it was about to pop.

“You seem to forget that you’re not the only one who possesses the Dragon Flame, Cosette!” he snarled, and snapped his fingers. Claquesous and Gueulemer flew to his side immediately. Their Vacuums glittered at their necks, and Cosette’s eyes widened. _My powers!_

“Cosette’s not alone this time, though!” Enjolras’ voice yelled behind her. Cosette glanced back, and Enjolras, Courfeyrac, Jehan and Éponine were fluttering behind her, fists clenched in readiness.

Babet snarled. “I don’t know how you do it Cosette,” he ground out. “There are over a billion nerves in my body, and you’ve somehow managed to get on _every last one of them!_ ” He raised his hand, and sent an icy blast spiralling towards the five Faeries. Enjolras, Courfeyrac, Jehan and Éponine flinched in fear, but Cosette raised her arms in an X shape, creating a bubble of fire around them that absorbed the ice, melting it. She turned to the Amis with wide eyes.

“Smash their necklaces,” she instructed. “That’s where they’re storing the Dragon Flame!” She turned back to her shield, and uncrossed her arms. The bubble expanded rapidly, colliding with the three Witches facing them. Cosette let out an almost animal-like snarl, and went speeding after Babet, who had been flung in the general direction of Lake Roccaluce. Babet had managed to get back in control of his flight path, and zoomed over the water’s surface, creating an enormous wave that splashed up at Cosette. The blonde Faery dodged the water and blasted at Babet again.

Cosette’s distraction meant that the fire around Musain had gone out, and the Army of Darkness had finally made it into the castle. With Marius and Lamarque the only two who could control fire, it had once again become a battle of which side could outlast the other. Blasts from the Wizards’ weapons mixed with the spells of Faeries and Witches alike, sending dark creatures flying, but the beasts easily reformed their bodies within seconds.

Bahorel and Marius were fighting back to back, and Bahorel smashed a Decay Fighter to pieces with a well-thrown bola before glancing back at Marius. “So, where in the world did you and Cosette go?” he asked.

Marius gave a dry chuckle. “Well, we parked the Space Spider in the dark forest,” he began. “And then we - __oof__  -” he slashed a Decay Soldier’s claw off - “we went for a walk.”

“And?” Bahorel asked, in between slashing at a Manta Flyer that had got too close. “How did it go?”

“We wanted to be alone,” Marius joked, “and believe me, we were.” His tone turned serious again. “Magix is a total ghost town, Rel.” He swung his sword through the Decay Soldier’s neck.

Bahorel narrowed his eyes. “Patron-Minette have outdone themselves this time,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” Marius agreed. “I think Cosette has just about had it with them.” He ducked to avoid a Decay Fighter’s fist, but suddenly a flash of green slashed through its wrist, cutting the hand clean off. Grantaire caught his returning boomerang with a grin.

“Hey guys, need a hand?” he joked, and Marius and Bahorel both groaned fondly.

Near the Wishing Well, Wolter and Ravageur came dashing out of their hole, pursued by a small army of Scrapers. The foul little lobster-like creatures were hot on their heels, and one snapped at Ravageur’s foot, tripping the duckling. Wolter skidded to a halt and grit his teeth. He’d grown rather fond of the little grey duckling, and he wasn’t about to let Ravageur become Scraper-chow. The Dutch rabbit sent three Scrapers flying with a powerful kick of his hind legs, before snatching Ravavgeur up and continuing to run. The bunny could feel something tingling in his shoulder blades, and hoped desperately that one of the little beasts wasn’t hitching a ride. However this was not the case - much to his surprise, he was suddenly flying through the air. It was controlled flight too, much to Wolter’s surprise. He glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes widened - tiny blue wings were poking out of his shoulder blades! One of the Faeries must have conjured wings for him so he could get himself and his friend to safety. Wolter flew through Cosette’s bedroom window, dropped Ravageur on the bed, and hurried back to shut the window.

 

 

Above the lake, Cosette and Babet circled each other with narrow eyes. Cosette raised her hands, and her dragon appeared again, sending burning golden flames towards Babet with a deep roar.

Babet raised his own hands, and the dragon turned to ice seconds before it reached him. With a clench of the Witch’s fists, it shattered, and Babet send an icy blast chasing after Cosette, who turned tail and fled. The Witch cackled - “Coward!” - but his jaw went slack when the blonde Faery’s voice shouted, “Rising Phoenix!” and she reappeared in front of him.

Cosette grinned. “Seems your aim is a bit off!” Babet snarled and flung ice dart after ice dart at his nemesis, who blasted each one to smithereens with her own fire darts. “Missed me again!”

 

 

Cosette’s friends, meanwhile, were facing off against Claquesous and Gueulemer. Claquesous glared at the Faeries across from her. “Let’s make this a fair fight!” she snarled, snapping her fingers. With a flash of purple magic, three copies of the Witch of Darkness appeared. “Ha!” Gueulemer raised his arms, summoning a twister, and the Claquesous’ all blasted dark magic into it, creating a sucking black portal at the bottom, similar to the one Patron-Minette had dropped Jean Valjean into back in Paris.

Courfeyrac raised his hands and shouted, “Static Sphere!” His bright green protective barrier appeared around the Amis, and the twister dissolved upon making contact with it. When the barrier vanished, Enjolras used his sceptre to send a blast of sunlight towards the Witches, dissolving Claquesous’ clones.

“My turn!” Jehan sang. “Flower Twister!” A stream of bright pink flowers went spiralling towards Gueulemer, who shot upwards to avoid it.

“Everything is better with a little music!” Éponine grinned. “Sound Cannon!” She directed several high frequency vibrations towards the two Witches, who both shrieked and hurriedly covered their ears, wincing at the piercing sound.

“Alright,” Gueulemer growled. “Enough already!” He snapped his fingers, and a gust of wind blew Éponine nearly out of the air, making her lose concentration and thus stopping the vibrations. Éponine flew back up to her friends, unfortunately just in time to be hit by Gueulemer’s second blast,this one of lightening.

 

 

Babet’s eyes widened with rage, and he blasted several chunks of ice at Cosette. The chunks formed an almost spherical prison around her, and ice spikes burst out of its surface. Babet smirked at the ice tomb for a second, before flinging towards the hard rocks at the edge of the lake. The structure shattered, and Babet flung back his head with a cackle. _Farewell, Cosette!_

He nearly fell out of the air when a second laugh joined his. He turned, and to his shock, Cosette was fluttering behind him, giggling delightedly. “Fun game, this,” she commented, before actually sending him flying out of the air and into Lake Roccaluce with a blast of fire.

A second after Babet hit the water, an enormous watery hand shot up and pulled Cosette into the lake too. Babet emerged, dripping, and blasted the lake until it completely froze. He grinned at his handiwork, but was forced to hurriedly fly backwards when Cosette blasted her way back out, sending chunks of ice flying. “DAMMIT!”

 

 

In the centre of the battle, Bahorel, Marius and Grantaire were still fighting the Decay Fighters. Marius narrowed his eyes and formed a fire boomerang, cursing himself that he hadn’t thought of doing this earlier. He flung it through the air, managing to smash three Fighters before it returned. The beasts hurriedly collected themselves - literally - but were forced to leave behind the burned Scrapers that had actually come into contact with the bright blue flames.

Combeferre joined them, having lost his gun, and formed an air sword. “If we… survive… this…” he groaned, “I am never… going to complain… about double periods of… gym class… ever…again!”

The three headmasters were fighting together, blasting one Manta Flyer out of the air after another. Lamarque was beginning to look seriously annoyed. “Whoever invented the Army of Darkness was probably far too sadistic for their own good,” he groaned. “An army that can just rebuild itself the second its maimed? Didn’t they think the enemies might get a bit bored with them after a while?”

“He wasn’t called Serelius the Sadistic for nothing,” Thénardier noted. “The only design flaw is that the strength of the Army is linked to the strength of whomever controls it. The controller must be able to maintain great power during the entire battle. If they are bested before they have won, the Army becomes virtually useless.”

“So if Cosette and her friends defeat Patron-Minette, the Army will vanish,” Myriel summarised. “Speaking of which, where did those Witches go?”

At that moment, Claquesous went flying through the air and crashed through a window. She emerged a moment later, and flew back up to rejoin Gueulemer, looking furious. Myriel raised an eyebrow. “Aah. There they are.”

Indeed, the Amis and Patron-Minette were still duelling, but Courfeyrac was getting rather tired of the constant exchange of spells. With a yell of “Aah, screw it!” he went careening into Gueulemer and headbutted him in the stomach. The Witch of Storms let out a groan that sounded like a balloon deflating, and clutched at his stomach.

This left Claquesous facing Enjolras and Jehan. She raised her arms, and her own purple Dragon briefly flashed behind her, and she sent spirals of dark magic towards the two Faeries, but Enjolras raised his sceptre and they both vanished. She darted forwards angrily, not seeing Éponine rise behind her until it was too late and the Music Faery had already blasted her out of the sky.

Myriel grinned proudly up at his students, before a second, worrying thought entered his head: _where have Cosette and Babet gone?_ An enraged scream that nearly cracked the ground answered that question, though.

 

“ENOUGH!” Babet screamed. “I’M DONE TOYING WITH YOU, COSETTE! He raised his hands, and Lake Roccaluce once again froze solid. Ice spikes appeared, surrounding Cosette, giving her no way out. More ice spun into existence until Babet, in true Fairy Tale style, had frozen Cosette inside a twisted ice tower from which she would have no escape - an anti-teleportation spell saw to that. The ice was too thick to melt from the inside, and Babet had constructed it so that it completely enclosed the girl’s body, making it far harder for her to use her powers. The frozen temperature would kill her long before she managed to create even a spark.

His enemy was, at long last, as good as dead, and Babet gloried in the knowledge that this time she could not interrupt his cackle.

 

 

Claquesous had recovered from Éponine’s attack, and she returned to Gueulemer’s side with a snarl. The Witches and the Faeries once again circled each other in the air, but suddenly Gueulemer halted. “Leave them to me, ‘Sous,” he chuckled. “They’re not going to enjoy the ending __twist__  I have in store for them!” Claquesous backed away with a smirk, and Gueulemer spun rapidly in a circle, generating another twister far larger than the previous one, and with far more power. The Faeries turned and made to retreat and regroup, but the twister was far faster than they were, and sucked them into it easily.

“AAAAAAAAAAAGH!”

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!”

“GAAAAAAHHHHHK!”

“MY SCEPTRE!”

Indeed, Enjolras had lost his grip on his sceptre, which spun away from him at an alarming speed. The blond boy narrowed his eyes against the wind, and pumped his legs like he was on a swing, but to no avail - the sceptre was too far away from him.

Jehan was nearer, and made to grab it, but with a dull thud, the sceptre connected hard with their skull, knocking the poor flower Faery unconscious.

“JEHAN!” Courfeyrac shrieked, and darted for his friend. Meanwhile, Éponine had had more success with the sceptre, and had managed to grab onto the end of it.

The brunette clung to the handle, and snatched at Courfeyrac with her other hand, eventually snapping his collar. “COURF!” she screamed. “GRAB THE SCEPTRE! I’M GOING FOR ENJ!”

With the arm that wasn’t wrapped around Jehan, Courfeyrac managed to anchor himself firmly to the part of the sceptre just under the orb-shaped ornament at the top, and Éponine once again reached out, hopeful that Enjolras could grab her hand.

Finally, Enjolras managed to grab onto Éponine’s hand, and she pulled him towards the sceptre. The instant the blond prince touched it, the four Faeries were teleported out of the twister, leaving it spinning through the air - directly towards Claquesous, who shrieked and turned tail.

She was too slow, however, and was sucked into the centre. “GueuleMER!” she screamed, and her cousin hurriedly snapped his fingers, making the twister vanish. Unfortunately, Claquesous had built up enough momentum that she was flung headfirst towards him, hitting him in the stomach. The storm Witch wheezed in pain - this was the second head to collide with his stomach in _under an hour _-__  and both Witches fell, one screaming and one groaning, out of the air.

Below, the three headmasters raised their hands, and beams of light shot directly towards Claquesous and Gueulemer, surrounding them, and forming a spherical prison made of pure iron. The sphere hit the ground, and they started hurriedly towards it. At that moment, the Amis fell out of the air next to it, looking exhausted (and in Jehan’s case, unconscious). Grantaire dashed over, helping Enjolras to his feet as Thénardier snapped his fingers, breaking the sphere open.

“Are you OK?” he asked hurriedly. Enjolras nodded.

“Yeah,” he pecked Grantaire’s cheek, “but there’s just one more thing I need to do.” Myriel had summoned magical handcuffs that bound the two Witches in place, and Enjolras marched over and yanked the necklaces from around their necks. “These are seriously tacky,” he teased, before dropping them to the floor and stomping heavily on them.

From the remains of the shattered necklaces, two orbs of golden light rose into the air, and zoomed off towards the lake. At the same time, two thirds of the Army of Darkness suddenly froze in place before dissolving. A brief cheer echoed over the courtyard, before the fighting resumed. The remainder of the Army of Darkness was still just as strong.

 

 

Above the lake, Babet looked down on his handiwork with pride, almost missing the two globes of golden light that shot to the base of the tower. With a bang that nearly knocked him out of the air, the two globes joined together and created Cosette’s glowing orange-gold dragon. The dragon flew into the air, circling the ice tower and squeezing it until it smashed, and its victorious roar blocked out the sound of Babet’s enraged scream.

“NOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The dragon vanished into Cosette’s body, which had lit up with the intensity of the brightest flame, bleaching out all her features except her eyes, glowing with rage.

 

 

In the courtyard, Marius swung his sword back, preparing to strike against his opponent - a menacing-looking Decay Soldier - when to his shock, it vanished. He turned, and all across the battlefield, the Army of Darkness was dissolving into nothing. Azelma paused, realising she was no longer fighting a Manta Flyer, and Larbin toppled over, no longer wrestling a Decay Fighter. Lamarque grinned.

“I get the feeling that Cosette has just won her battle.”

Bahorel helped Éponine to her feet, while Combeferre and Courfeyrac helped Jehan stand; the Faery of Flowers was still rather dizzy in spite of having seen the nurse and had a bandage wrapped around their head. Grantaire and Enjolras held hands, and Marius squinted up at the sky, searching for Cosette’s telltale silhouette.

All of a sudden, the storm clouds vanished, and fluttering down from them was Cosette with an unconscious Babet in her arms. The bottle on the chain around his neck had been shattered, and Cosette was glowing with quiet serenity. She touched down on the ground and blinked slowly out at the sea of onlookers, before placing Babet at Headmaster Myriel’s feet and turning to join her friends. She’d barely made it five steps before her vision was swamped by a mass of blond hair as Enjolras flung his arms around her neck.

“I thought I’d seen the last of you, Cosette,” he sobbed. “Don’t ever scare me like that again!” Éponine and Courfeyrac joined them in a group hug, and Jehan whooped from where Combeferre was still supporting them.

“No promises,” Cosette giggled as her friends pulled back. She chuckled happily, almost glowing with relief, but suddenly her cheeks took on a pink tinge, and a softer smile came over her face.

Enjolras turned around, and saw Marius standing awkwardly, seemingly unsure of whether or not he should approach Cosette. The blond prince stood back with a grin, and Cosette smiled back before walking towards Marius herself.

There was a brief moment of awkwardness, before Cosette impulsively raised herself onto her tiptoes and pecked Marius on the lips. “Thank you,” she whispered, before throwing her arms around him with a giggle. He hugged her back, his cheeks slowly turning bright pink.

“Anything for you, Sette.”

 

 

In Magix City, the sludge that had cocooned so many innocent bystanders vanished, and the inhabitants were waking up. They shook their heads briefly, under the impression that they had just had a very odd nightmare in the daytime, and went about their business. For the first time in weeks, sunlight shone down on the city.

 

 

In Musain’s courtyard, Myriel and Thénardier walked together, supervising the transportation of the wounded to the nursing station that had been set up, and Thénardier squinted up at the once again sunny sky.

“My students and I will be returning to Votirlu as soon as everyone has been tended to,” he told Myriel. “We need to restore order to the castle, and resume school as normal as quickly as possible.”

“And what about Patron-Minette?” Myriel asked. “The Dragon Flame belongs to Cosette alone. Trying to take it from her was both foolish and dangerous. They essentially signed the waiver for their defeat at her hands.”

Thénardier smirked. “I can assure you that they will be accordingly punished,” he chuckled. “They will be sent to Lightrock Monastery for a retreat of purification. I hear that everyone there is unfathomably perky.”

Lamarque joined them when they reached the steps. “Good news!” he informed them. “Life in Magix City has returned to normal.”

“That’s great!” Myriel said cheerfully.

Larbin gazed awkwardly up at the three headmasters, before glancing back at the Faeries and Wizards next to him. “Are you sure?” he asked nervously.

Grantaire nodded. “Go on, Larbin.”

“You’ll have to ask him sooner or later,” she chuckled.

Myriel raised an eyebrow with a smile. “Ask what?”

Larbin approached the headmasters nervously. His enormous knees were knocking together, and he was fidgeting uncontrollably. Enjolras joined him, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Headmaster Myriel, Larbin wants to ask you something,” he grinned. “You too, Headmaster Thénardier.”

Thénardier raised an eyebrow. “Go on, Larbin. What is it?”

“Uh…” the ogre stuttered. “Well… it’s like… b-because I think I’m, uh, k-kinda doin’ well here at Musain, and, uh, well, uh, maybe I’d like to, um, stay here, i-if there’s room, b-b-because that would be nice.”

Lamarque chuckled. “Larbin, if I’m not mistaken, you’re asking to stay at Musain.”

Myriel turned to Thénardier. “What do you say, Thénardier? Would you mind his staying here at Musain rather than at Votirlu?”

Thénardier shook his head with a little smirk. “I have no objection to this whatsoever. And I appreciate you consulting me on this matter.”

Larbin beamed and laughed delightedly, clapping his hands together, before heading off to join the clean-up crew. _Being a janitor,_  he decided as he moved rubble, _sounds much nicer than being a lackey._

 

 

There was going to be a party at Musain that night to celebrate the victory over Patron-Minette. Éponine, still transformed, did a loop-de-loop above the castle, before fluttering down and sitting on a bench. She smiled over at Azelma and Montparnasse, who were perched on the wall of the Wishing Well. Azelma smiled back, before turning back to Montparnasse.

“Parnasse, are you _absolutely sure?_ ” she asked him.

“I’m sure,” Montparnasse sighed. “Votirlu is my home. Besides, it’s not like you couldn’t change your mind.”

Azelma smiled serenely. “Oh, but I don’t think I will.”

Monsieur Thénardier stood in front of them, with a rare smile on his face. “Come on, Montparnasse,” he said proudly. “We’re leaving soon. Heading back home.”

Montparnasse nodded and got to his feet. “I’ll go and get my cloak,” he said. He glanced back at Azelma. “See you around… I guess.”

Azelma gazed sadly after him, before turning back to her father, whose smile had become a little sad. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked.

Azelma nodded. “I want to stay here. I want to become a Faery, or at least try my hand at it. I mean, let’s be real, dad. I was shit at being a Witch.”

Thénardier chuckled. “Well, if you’re sure.”

Éponine went to join them, ignoring the shocked look on her friends’ faces. “Don’t worry,” she smiled at Thénardier. “I’ll take good care of her… dad.”

“You’d better,” Thénardier said, before smiling again. “I’m so proud of both my girls.” He pushed Éponine’s fringe away from her eye. “Even if you’re not the Witches I’d hoped for, you’re both stronger than I could have possibly imagined.”

Éponine blinked a little, before opening her left eye fully. It was the same brilliant yellow as Azelma’s left eye and both her father’s eyes. On impulse, she pulled both Azelma and Thénardier into a hug, and Thénardier looked shocked for a second before hugging both his daughters back. After a minute, he pulled away and headed back to his students. Montparnasse handed him his long red cloak, and he pulled the hood up, before nodding to Myriel.

Myriel smiled back. “I guess it’s time for us to say goodbye, old friend.”

“We put up a good fight, Myriel,” Thénardier nodded, “but now it’s time for our schools to refocus on their missions. Come on, Witches, hurry up! Votirlu castle awaits our return!”

The Witches fell in line, and Thénardier raised a hand and reopened the portal that had brought them to Musain a few days before. The Witches marched into it and one by one vanished back to their own school. Montparnasse glanced fleetingly back at Azelma, before stepping into it.

As the Witches continued to enter their portal, another had opened up, and Thénardier grinned at the guards surrounding it. They all wore pale grey trousers with blue boots and vests, and wore their hair tied back in long ponytails held with tube-like bands. Most bore large moustaches, and some were carrying long staffs.

“And as for Babet, Claquesous and Gueulemer,” Thénardier smirked, “They’re headed for Lightrock Monastery, for a purification retreat that I dare say has been a long time coming.” Indeed, the three Witches, now out of Witch form and clad in cream prison jumpsuits, were being fitted with green Magic Containment headbands before being marched into the portal by two guards apiece. Gueulemer and Claquesous were both struggling furiously, but Babet seemed to have coldly accepted his punishment. After his cousins had vanished into the portal, he glared back over his shoulder at the Amis, his eyes flashing with quiet fury. _I’ll get you next time,_  his eyes seemed to say. _You and your little bunny too!_

Enjolras wiggled his fingers at the white-haired boy in a mocking wave, and Babet disappeared into the portal, followed by the rest of the guards, after which it closed.

Ravageur and Wolter had been retrieved from the bedroom, and Wolter sat in Cosette’s arms, snuggling his mistress proudly. Ravageur let out a saddened quack. “Mummy?”

Azelma, who when you come to think about it, had really always been far too compassionate and empathetic to be a Witch, bent down and lifted up Ravageur. “Don’t worry, Ravageur,” she smiled, petting the little duckling. “I’ll be your Mummy now.” The duckling considered this for a moment, before snuggling into the pets. It was rather nice to have a Mummy who didn’t try to freeze you every five minutes.

 

 

As dusk fell over Magix, Headmaster Myriel lifted a crystal goblet and lightly tapped a spoon against it. “May I please have your attention?” he called out. The students, Faeries and Wizards alike, glanced up from where they were seated at several long trestle tables in the courtyard. Myriel was standing on the steps, flanked on one side by Headmaster Lamarque and Professors Javert and Palladium, and on the other by Nurse Dahlia and Professors Wizgiz and Fauchelevent. “We are gathered here today to celebrate a momentous event. While there are many other institutions of education in the Magic Dimension, Musain and Corinthe have always prided themselves in training the most exceptionally powerful Faeries and Wizards. And I think that this was proved here today. You have all proved yourselves to be exceptional young warriors, and Headmaster Lamarque and I both agree that you have proven yourselves to have learned perhaps even more than we taught you this year. Thus we have decided to cancel final exams!”

The cheer that went up was almost deafening, and Professor Javert clapped his hands sharply with a shout of, “Settle down! Settle down!” But, upon looking back at what the students had been through in the last few days alone, he really didn’t mind it that much when they ignored him.

An hour later, the party was well underway. Magical lanterns hovered above the tables, and with a little kitchen magic, there was a perfectly sized portion of nachos for every table. Every table had a bottle of champagne, although most of the students switched to fruit juice after one glass, preferring a sweeter taste.

Cosette, Enjolras, Jehan, Courfeyrac and Éponine all sat together, along with Azelma, Marius, Grantaire, Combeferre, Bahorel and Larbin. To everyone’s surprise, the ogre was proving himself to be an excellent party guest, with everyone in stitches as he recounted the ways in which he had screwed up as an assistant to Patron-Minette.

After his latest story, which involved a bottle of crab legs, a potion gone wrong, and an unintentionally hairy frog, Cosette managed to stop giggling long enough to raise a glass in a toast. She’d been in a state of constant euphoria since Patron-Minette’s defeat, but seeing Enjolras grab Grantaire’s hand under the table had reminded her of another thing that had gone right recently. “A toast!” she grinned. “To Enjolras and Grantaire!”

Everyone raised their glasses with a cheer, but Marius raised an eyebrow as well. “Did I miss something?” he grinned.

Grantaire blushed and pretended not to know what Cosette was talking about. “A toast for what?”

Enjolras grinned. “It’s a toast to celebrate that you’re not a prince, and that I couldn’t care less.” He pulled Grantaire’s hand above the table and planted a kiss on the back of it, and Grantaire’s cheeks burned delightedly before he firmly wrapped an arm around his boyfriend.

Jehan smirked too. They still had a bandage wrapped around their head, but they looked far less woozy than earlier, and they nudged Courfeyrac meaningfully while glancing over at Combeferre. “Something tells me that we’ll soon have another reason to raise our glasses, right, Courf?”

Courfeyrac’s cheeks flushed, but he was spared from the embarrassment of having to reply by Wolter, who had been pattering up and down the table, and had finally tripped over a spoon and into a fruit display, sending oranges everywhere.

 

 

At around half-ten, Cosette slipped away from the main party and headed over to lean against the Wishing Well. The breeze from the tunnels cooled her down, and she gazed up at the night sky, appreciating the thousands of white stars against the deep blue backdrop.

“Cosette? You OK?”

Cosette nearly fell down the well in shock, before turning to face Marius, who was gazing at her concernedly. She smiled softly and nodded. “Just thinking.”

Marius leaned against the well next to her. “Whatcha thinking about?” he asked. “If it’s not too private.”

Cosette smiled and shook her head. “It’s all the big stuff… my mum and my adoptive dad and my past and my future… wondering about the rest of my family. Do I have a birth father? Why am I so powerful for someone with little to no training?”

Marius breathed out slowly. “Wow… you really did mean the big stuff.” He smiled at her. “Listen. Whatever you choose to do, know that you’re not alone. I’ll stand by you no matter what.”

Cosette looked down and took a deep breath. She slowly slid her hand over to Marius’, and intertwined their fingers together. He looked surprised at the contact, before grinning encouragingly at her. Cosette leaned back and gazed up at the stars. Her attention was caught by a shooting star speeding across the sky.

“Make a wish,” Marius murmured.

Cosette grinned. “Already did.”

_I wish that no matter what, we’ll all always stick together, because we can face anything as one._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus concludes Part 1!
> 
> If you've made it this far, just know that everyone who had commented and/or left kudos has made my day. Hell, even just seeing the view count go up every time I post a new chapter makes my day. I really hope you enjoyed this, even if it wasn't quite what you were expecting, and I love you all. Go be magical!!
> 
> As always, feel free to shoot me asks about the world/characters/anything really either in the comments or on Tumblr (@queer-cosette).
> 
> And stay tuned for Part 2: The Shadow Phoenix!!

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this AU for ages. It roughly follows the plot of the show Winx Club, only it's way darker in some places. The prologue is short, but it's super important for what happens later. I really hope I have intrigued you!  
> Also updates may be few and far between. This is a long AU, and it's taking a long time to write.
> 
> If you have any questions about the story or the universe it's set in, I'd love to answer them @queer-cosette on Tumblr!!


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